


Heaven Can Wait!

by Pastaaddict



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: F/M, Falling In Love, Is what Arthur is seeing real or imagined?, Judgement, Originally Posted on FanFiction.Net, Revolutionary War References, Someone will die, Trial in Heaven, World War II, under same name
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-23
Updated: 2018-09-06
Packaged: 2019-07-01 16:04:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 8
Words: 21,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15777432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pastaaddict/pseuds/Pastaaddict
Summary: Squadron Leader Arthur Kirkland's last words before he jumps from a crashing bomber without a parachute are with American wireless operator, Amelia F Jones. After he miraculously survives, they meet and fall in love but there's a problem! Arthur was not supposed to survive and Heaven demands that he comes up!





	1. I Love You! Goodbye!

**Author's Note:**

> This is based on an old David Niven film called A Matter of Life and Death. I think it was called Stairway to Heaven in the US.
> 
> Hetalia and A Matter of Life and Death do not belong to me!

 

**_**I Love you! Goodbye!** _ **

 

__World War II..._ _

  


Squadron Leader Arthur Kirkland was amazed his Lancaster bomber was still flying with holes in the fuselage, flames pouring from one engine and one failed, the two remaining engines did not sound too healthy either. He could not see where he was as the entire bomber was surrounded by an impenetrable fog but he believed he was somewhere over the English Channel and he was the only person alive on the bomber, the rest having been ordered to bail out while Arthur attempted to keep the crippled plane in the air. He had not bailed out with them because he did not tell them that, when the fuselage was damaged, shrapnel had shredded his parachute.

The only other human being on board was the bomber's flight engineer, Kyle Kirkland, a cousin of Arthur's whose family had emigrated to Australia and he had returned, just before the war. He and Arthur joined the RAF together and Kyle was a wizard with machinery but he had fixed his last engine. He lay on the bomber's deck, the plaster that he always seemed to have stuck across his nose and his eyes stared sightlessly at the top of the plane as Arthur struggled to keep flying. He would have grieved for Kyle later but he did not think he was going to live through this himself. Oh well! He would be seeing Kyle soon and he reached his radio microphone. He wanted to get a message out before he checked out for good.

"This is G for George!" He said into the mic, given the plane's call sign. "This is G-George! can anybody hear me? Over!"

* * *

Amelia F. Jones was two hours into a six hour night shift, manning the radios and monitoring incoming transmissions. So far the radio signals had been pretty routine and boring and she stretched and yawned. She had arrived in England as part of the US Air force shortly after her country entered the war. Her brother followed shortly after her as a doctor at the base to which she was assigned and she cuddled down into the bomber jacket that he had given her when she enlisted. She would have loved to have been a pilot but the military did not allow women in planes. She ran her hands through her shoulder-length blonde hair and rubbed her blue eyes as she settled down for another boring night when …..

"This is G for George! This is G-George! Can anybody hear me? Over!" The British accent came over the speaker with a hint of urgency, breaking the silence. Amelia immediately operated the microphone to answer the call.

"Hear you loud and clear, G-George!" she replied. "What is your position? Over!" He sounded cute!

"No idea!" came the reply. "Somewhere over the Channel, I think. Navigation's shot, my bird is on fire, my flight engineer is dead and it's only a matter of time before I start falling out of the sky. I ordered the rest of my crew to bale out at 01.40am but my parachute was damaged when we were hit. What's your name? Over!" Amelia scribbled down what he told her about his crew's bale out to report so a rescue could be sent.

Arthur was happy that his last conversation would be with, what sounded like, a pretty girl, American, by the sound of her voice, and nice. He wanted to know the name of the last person he would ever speak to and she could get a message to his loved ones that came from him and not some impersonal, black-edged telegram. She sounded like the sort of person who would do something so kind.

"Calling G for George!" the girl's voice came over his speaker. "Calling G-George! Crew baled out at 01.40am! Got that! What about your flight engineer's parachute? Can't you use that? Over!" It was sweet that the girl was trying to think of ways to save him but he had already thought of that.

"Damaged too." he replied. "I have two choices! Stay put or bale out without one. What's your name? Over!" Amelia did not like it that there seemed to be no way to bring this man home. She wanted to be his heroine and save him but, at the very least she could answer his question.

"I'm Amelia," she replied, ready to cry at her helplessness to save this man. "Amelia F. Jones. Over!" Arthur smiled on his side on the radio at her reply. Amelia! Her name matched her sweet voice.

"Lovely to meet you, Amelia," he replied. "I'm Squadron Leader Arthur Kirkland. Where are you from? Over!"

"Boston, Over!" Amelia replied, thinking what a normal conversation this was to have in the middle of a crisis.

"A city with lots of history!" Arthur commented. "I'm from London myself. Are you pretty? Over!" Amelia almost laughed at the question.

"I think so," she replied. "At least, that's what I've been told. What about you? Are you handsome? Over!"

"I been told I have hideously big eyebrows," Arthur admitted. "Unfortunately for my brothers, they run in the family. What are you doing after your shift finishes? Over!" Amelia felt like she was getting 'chatted up' as the British would say.

"I'm on duty 'till six," she replied. "Then I'll go back to Hetalia House where I'm billeted. Over!"

"Old house? Over!"

"Quite old! Over!"

"Maybe I'll become a ghost and visit you," Arthur joked. "You're not afraid of ghosts, are you? Over!" Amelia gave a watery smile.

"I won't be afraid of you, Arthur. Over!" she replied. Arthur smiled at his end of the radio.

"Good!" he said. "I have a favour to ask. Over!" Amelia could not refuse Arthur anything at this point.

"Of course. Over!" she said with a lump in her throat.

"I want you to get a message to my brothers," Arthur told her. "23 St George's Street, London. Tell them I love them, even if they are gits half the time. I've never really told them that before, you'd have to know my family to understand! Tell them not to read the telegram when it comes. I don't want to be remembered by some mass produced piece of paper that the MoD will just add my name to. Tell Allistor and Rhys they're the biggest pillocks I've ever met but they're also the best big brothers and tell Patrick and Seamus not to emulate those two idiots but do listen to them sometimes, they occasionally say something sensible. Over!" Amelia could not stand the idea that this man was going to die, leaving behind brothers that he bickered with but clearly loved. There had to be some way to save him!

"Arthur," she begged. "Let me report this! There might be some way we can help. Over!"

"No point!" Arthur replied as one engine spluttered and finally cut out, quickly followed by the other, the only sound now the roar of the wind outside and fire had reached the main fuselage, licking through the joints. "No one can reach me in time, I've just lost my last two engines so I'll be losing height now and the fire's spreading. I'm sorry, I'll have to cut our conversation short, Amelia! I'm going to bail out now, I've decided I'd rather drown than burn and I'll probably be unconscious when I hit the water any way. You know, it's funny! I've never been in love but I think I could have loved you so that will be the last thing I do in this life. I love you, Amelia! Goodbye! Over!" The radio went dead. A cold hand of dread clutched at Amelia's heart as the line went silent and she operated the microphone.

"Calling G for George!" she cried. "Calling G-George! Over!" There was no reply from Arthur and Amelia wanted to break down and cry but she had something to do before she gave in to grief. She grabbed a pad of paper and a pen to write down the address Arthur had told her and everything he had asked her to tell his brothers then relayed the information about Arthur's bailed out crew which, in turn, was relayed to the Navy. Then she broke down and cried.

* * *

Arthur dropped the mic, moved past Kyle's body and prepared to throw himself from the plane but not before he gave his cousin's body one last look.

"Well, Kyle, old boy!" he said to the corpse. "I'll be seeing you in a minute. You'll know if we have wings when we get up there. I guess I'll soon find out for myself!" Arthur stood at the edge of the opening in the deck of the bomber. He gave one last thought to the American girl on the other end of the radio....and jumped.

 

 

 


	2. It's Heaven, Isn't It?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There are problems in Heaven and love is in the air.

 

_****It's Heaven, isn't it!** ** _

 

Flight Engineer, Kyle Kirkland never thought Heaven would be like this. Everything was white with smooth, curved walls, not a sharp edge or pointed corner in sight. Right now Kyle was sat on a cushioned bench, watching attending angels, stood behind a counter, processing the new arrivals to Heaven and handing them their wings. Wartime was such a busy time for them as members of the militaries of every country involved in the current conflict spilled from the stairway that Kyle himself had traversed less than an hour ago and he scanned each new arrival, looking for someone in particular.

Two soldiers came off the stairway but neither of them were Arthur. One was dressed in a British Army officer's uniform and the other was dressed in a French one. The Frenchman was babbling in rapid French but from the hand gestures, Kyle surmised that the Frenchman was describing his death. When he finished, the army officer patted the Frenchman on the back and said, "Bad luck, old man!"

Kyle settled back into his seat as a crowd of American pilots came up the stairway, laughing and joking with each other. _'Well, at least dying had not dulled their mood,'_ Kyle thought as he figured that, somewhere, an American plane, perhaps a B-17, had gone down. They crowded round a machine dispensing a certain brand of soda that had appeared from nowhere and acquired bottles of the drink without needing quarters. Then they went to the counter to the attending angels. The angels presented a book for them to sign in and the pilot was the first to pick up the pen and scribbled his name in the book.

Kyle lost interest and went back to watching the top of the stairway. After dealing with the American crew, Elizaveta looked up at the dark-haired, green-eyed Australian with large eyebrows who had yet to sign in but refused to until his cousin came. Elizaveta had already checked that Squadron Leader Arthur Kirkland had yet to arrive and the Hungarian angel with the long, brown hair and green eyes had decided that either Arthur Kirkland had not arrived yet or was not due to.

"Flight Engineer Kyle Kirkland," she said as he looked up at her. "You can't stay here much longer, you really must sign in!" Kyle looked at the stairway one more time.

"You're absolutely sure Arthur hasn't arrived yet?" he asked. "There's no way he could have made it off the bomber alive, there's no mistake?" Elizaveta looked a little affronted.

"There hasn't been a mistake here for over a thousand years," she replied. Kyle raised a rather smug eyebrow.

"So mistakes have been made before," he said. Elizaveta looked a little uncomfortable.

"There was a mistake," Elizaveta admitted. "The girl before me said that when there's a mistake, the alarm starts ringing in the Records Office" She pointed to some raised round viewing portals nearby.

"And how long have you been here?" Kyle asked as they strolled over to one of the viewing portals that looked down into the Records Department of Heaven.

"Six hundred years," Elizaveta replied and they looked down. Kyle had to admit that narrowed down the odds of a mistake. He looked down into the Records Department at all the people moving about among the billions upon billions of files, containing the details of everyone who lived or had ever lived on Earth.

"If someone had told me that Heaven was run by a lot of clerks," Kyle mused. "I never would have believed them." Elizaveta smiled as another soul wandered over to the viewing portal and looked down. He had short blonde hair and green eyes behind square glasses as he looked around in awe.

"It's Heaven, isn't it!" the man exclaimed in an Estonian accent. Elizaveta gave a look of vindication.

"See, Mr Kirkland," she said. "Some think it would be Heaven to be a clerk!" And she steered Kyle to the counter to sign in and receive his wings.

"But it is possible for a mistake to be made?" he asked. Elizaveta sighed.

"Yes, it is possible but unlikely," she pointed to a complex ornate time measuring system above the counter. "If a mistake were to happen, such as if your cousin....and you....didn't sign in by the end of my shift, the alarms would ring when the time ran out."

"Then I better sign in," Kyle replied. "I wouldn't want the alarms to ring." He smiled at Elizaveta who smiled back as he signed the book and another angel behind the counter handed him his wings. The clock ticked round but there was still no sign of Arthur as the clock ticked down, Elizaveta's shift ended and Arthur still had not arrived.....and the alarms began to ring.

* * *

The waves of the English Channel lapped against Arthur as he drifted, face up and kept above water by his life preserver as he drifted toward shore which was a good thing because Arthur could not swim even if he was conscious as the current drove him toward the sandy beach and finally washed him ashore. Arthur slowly awoke as the early morning sun shone down on him and he blinked in the sunlight, slowly standing up out of the shallow waves splashing over him and staggered out of the water. One of the first things he noticed was that he was missing a boot and he looked around as he discarded his life preserver and pulled off his remaining boot. Was this Heaven? It looked like a sandy beach in Britain. It had to be Heaven, there was no way he could have survived the jump from his bomber.

Where did he go? Was there some special place he had to report to? Why had nobody met him? Surely someone should have, to tell him what he did next!

He began to walk down the beach, pulling off his sopping wet socks and unzipping his flying jacket and discarding it, leaving his RAF uniform underneath, despite the fact that the uniform was sopping wet too. He must have walked a mile down the beach before he saw any sign of life when he heard a bark and turned to see a black and white border collie who stared at him and panted.

"So there are animals in Heaven," he mused, pleased at the thought. He knelt down to call the dog to him and the collie obeyed, giving himself up to the strokes and pats that Arthur bestowed on him and then the dog padded away and Arthur followed him. As he pursued the dog, he began to hear the sound of a wind instrument, like a recorder. Arthur followed the music and came across a young boy, blonde, blue-eyed and with eyebrows that might have marked him as a Kirkland, sat on the sand, playing his instrument. _'He must be a resident of Heaven',_ Arthur thought. _'It's a shame he died so young.'_

"Hello," Arthur said to the boy. "Where do I report?" Surely this boy could tell him what he needed to do. The boy looked at him strangely.

"At the base, of course," he replied. What officer did not know that?

"The base?" Arthur began to realise that he was not dead or in Heaven. How he survived, he had no idea but it became clear to him that he had and been swept ashore in Britain. "Where is this base?" The young boy pointed down the beach.

"Just follow that path," he replied, pointing at a trail on the beach above the tidal point and coming down the trail was someone riding a bicycle. "That'll be one of those American girls. The Yanks use the trail to return to Hetalia House." Arthur turned to look back at the boy. Hetalia House! That was where Amelia said she was billeted and the girl on the bike might know Amelia. Arthur thanked the boy and ran toward the bike rider.

* * *

Amelia had reported the contact with Arthur to her superior so they knew his crew was out there so a rescue vessel could be sent and, maybe, they might find Arthur's body and be able to return it to his family. After that, she passed a rather subdued shift as Arthur played on her mind and she was glad when her shift ended. She clutched the precious scrap of paper with Arthur's last wish written on it and retrieved her bike. Fuel was at a premium, thanks to the war, so fuel-less travel was keenly encouraged and she put her untouched lunch-box into the bicycle basket, put the paper into the pocket of her uniform and began her journey back to Hetalia House. As she pedalled back to Hetalia House, her mind turned back to the British pilot who was probably dead now and Amelia wanted to cry as the feeling of helplessness swept over her again, then she was pulled out of her melancholy by a voice calling to her.

A blonde man in an RAF uniform was running toward her bicycle, calling out in a British accent and she stopped her bike as the man ran up to her. She noticed he was bare-foot and somewhat wet as he stopped in front of her and she noticed that he was rather cute with emerald green eyes and she wanted to cry when she saw his huge eyebrows. Arthur said he had big eyebrows.

"Can I help you?" she asked and the man looked like he had been hit by a truck.

* * *

Arthur would know that voice anywhere! That Boston accent, so foreign to him but played so sweetly on his ear. The girl in front of him was very pretty with shoulder-length blonde hair and eyes the colour of the summer sky and she wore an female US Air force uniform. Could he had been so lucky as to be swept ashore close to his American angel on the radio?

"Amelia?" he asked, tentatively.

* * *

Amelia wondered how the man knew her name and then it occurred to her that she had heard his voice before. She tried thinking of all the British officers she had met but none came to …..That voice! It could not be!

Could it?

"Arthur?" she replied, just as tentatively as he did. The man's eyes glowed and his face split into the biggest smile she had ever seen. It was him! How he had survived, she did not know but he was alive, that was all that mattered!

"Arthur!" She exclaimed, taking his face in both hands as if to reassure herself that it was him and he was here alive in front of her. "You're alive! But how …..." Arthur disregarded her question, sweeping her into his arms and into a passionate kiss!

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The line 'It's Heaven, isn't it?' is in the film and said by a very young Richard Attenborough.
> 
> Next chapter, Heaven comes a throws a spanner in Arthur's lovelife.


	3. Bring Him Home!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Someone is sent for Arthur but Arthur is resistant.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please excuse any mistakes I might have missed, I'm a tiny bit drunk right now.

 

**_**Bring Him Home!** _ **

  


Almost twenty hours had passed since Heaven was sent into chaos by the unimaginable. A mistake! Everyone involved was called to stand before the Head of the Records Office to find where this mistake had occurred. Gaia read the report of the total number of soul expected and the total of souls arrived.

"29, 092, 015 souls invoiced," she read. "29,092,014 arrived. We appeared to be missing a soul" The dark-haired woman looked over everyone assembled and focused her attention on a man in eighteenth century clothing. He had long blonde hair, tied back with a ribbon and had deep blue eyes with a rose in his lapel.

"Collector 14," Gaia said. "19 hours have elapsed since Squadron Leader Arthur Kirkland should have reported in. Why did you not report this mistake?" Collector 14 AKA Comte Francis Bonnefoy had been spending most of those 19 hours looking for his errant charge but the English Channel was a big stretch of water, especially in a thick fog. After Arthur Kirkland jumped from the bomber, Francis had lost him in the fog and, after not finding him again, Francis had begun to panic.

"Désolé, madam! I lost my head," he replied, sheepishly. "I failed to find him after he jumped. The fog was so thick, I couldn't see a thing. Terrible English weather!" Gaia gave him a stare.

"How long have you been with us?" she asked him. Francis gave a look of distaste.

"Since the French Revolution," he replied with a hint of contempt.

"Natural death?" Gaia asked, casually. Francis looked even more offended. There was nothing natural about someone sticking your head in a guillotine.

"I lost my head!" he repeated, testily. Gaia gave a sigh.

"There's been a development," she revealed. "He has fallen in love!"

"Ahhh!" Francis exclaimed, his mind filled with the sweetness of L'amour and then he realised what this could mean. "Oh!"

"Exactly!" Gaia replied. "It complicates things!"

"Flight Engineer Kyle Kirkland, mam," Elizaveta told her. Kyle gave a polite nod.

"Flight Engineer Kyle Kirkland," Gaia replied. "You waited for Squadron Leader Arthur Kirkland, correct?"

"Yes," he answered. "I knew Arthur wouldn't be far behind me so I decided to wait. Our bomber was full of holes, one of engines was on fire and another had stalled. Arthur ordered the rest of the crew to bale out but didn't tell them his own parachute was useless. I only knew because I'd bought it by then." Gaia raised an eyebrow.

"I mean I'd already died," he clarified. "He was flying a crippled bomber in a fog so thick you could almost walk about on it."

"Exactement!" Francis exclaimed, feeling vindicated at Kyle's agreement about the weather.

"There was no way Arthur was going to survive," Kyle continued. "So I knew something was wrong when he didn't show up after me."

"Thank you, Flight Engineer," Gaia replied and turned back to Francis.

"Collector 14," she said and Francis winced. Did she have to call him that? He had a name! "You will go to Squadron Leader Arthur Kirkland, explain your regrettable mistake and persuade him to return here with you!"

"Bon!" Francis replied and turned to leave.

"Wait!" Francis turned back to the Head of Records who turned to Kyle.

"Your cousin!" she said to him. "Does he listen to reason?"

"Arthur! Oh yes!" and then Kyle thought for a moment. "Well, sometimes. Unless he's had a few!"

"Pardon?" Francis asked, perplexed.

"Beers!" Francis laughed.

"Ah!" he chuckled and Kyle laughed with him.

"Well, scotch is a bit difficult to come by on rations," he joked. "Could you tell him something for me?"

"Of course!" Francis replied.

"Tell him 'G'day, Bunny!'", calling Arthur by his family nickname.

"Bon!"

* * *

Francis appeared in the grounds of Hetalia House and looked around at the vibrant colours of the flowers, lit by the moon and the stars in the midnight blue above him. Francis loved being on Earth. Heaven had its own beauty but all that white made it all monochrome. Heaven was starved of colour and Francis would enjoy Earth while he could. Then he went in search of Squadron Leader Arthur Kirkland.

* * *

Amelia had taken Arthur back to the base where he was examined by the medical staff and then debriefed. The good news was that a Royal Navy vessel had found the rest of his flight crew and, aside from suffering from mild exposure, they were safe and well. The big mystery was how Arthur had survived jumping from the plane. His crew and his radio conversation with Amelia proved he had been on the plane and had jumped from it. His survival was nothing short of a miracle.

Arthur was assigned quarters at Hetalia House until his orders came through from the MoD and he and Amelia had spent the rest of the day together, getting to know each other better. She told him about her brother, actually her half-brother but they left the 'half' bit off. Matthew was the eldest, born in Canada but after his father died, their mother had married an American, Amelia's father.

Arthur told her about his brothers, how he was the only one of them who was blonde, the others being varying shades of red but all had green eyes and, of course, huge eyebrows. Allistor was in the army, training the new recruits to face the enemy while Rhys was in the Home Guard, an old rugby injury having ruled him out of the regular army but still wanting to do his bit. Patrick was in the Fire Service and they all looked after Arthur's only younger brother, Seamus, who was too young for war duty and tended to the vegetables that grew over the Anson shelter and looked after the chickens in the garden, collecting eggs to supplement their rations.

The night had fallen and they were sat in the gardens of Hetalia House, the scent of the flowers drifting on the air and the full moon shining down, the only light around as the house, the base and the nearby town were in blackout. Amelia laid down on the blanket they had brought with them while Arthur sat beside her. He took out a hip flask and took off the cover which doubled as a cup, set it down on a nearby rockery stone, unscrewed the top and pour a little brandy into the cup.

"Drink, Love?" he asked, looking down at Amelia and then turned to pick up the hip flask cup. The cup was missing and he looked around to see if the cup had fallen from the rock but it was nowhere to be seen. He pulled the second cup from the bottom of the hip flask and filled it up and put it down on the rock. He screwed the top back on the flask and went to pick up the second cup, only to find that it had vanished as well. Then there was a smell. A not unpleasant smell of a fine wine.

"Bonjour!" a greeting in a French accent sounded beside him. He looked up and saw a tall man with long, wavy blonde hair, tied back by a ribbon, He had blue eyes and his clothes looked old-fashioned, like eighteenth century old-fashioned and he was also holding the two hip flask cups.

"Do you mind if I keep these for a while?" the Frenchman asked, holding up the two cups. "We have something important to discuss!" Arthur turned to Amelia.

"Amelia, love!" he said but Amelia did not answer. In fact, she seemed …. asleep!

"She cannot hear you, mon ami," the Frenchman told him. "In fact, she has not heard or seen anything since you said 'Drink, Love?', Squadron Leader Arthur Kirkland!" Arthur frowned at this stranger knowing his name.

"Have we met, sir?" he asked. The Frenchman smiled.

"Comte Francis Bonnefoy, at your service," the man introduced himself. "We would have met last night, had it not been for the fog, mon ami but never mind, we can go now!"

"Go?" Arthur was confused. "Go where?"

"Mon ami," Francis gave him a sympathetic look. "What happens when you jump out of a plane without a parachute? Do you live? It's time to go to the training centre for the next world. It's time to go to Heaven! "

"What are you talking about?" Arthur was sure this man in fancy dress was a lunatic. "How do I know you're not just some French madman?"

"I bring a message from your cousin, Kyle," Francis hoped that this would convince Arthur of the truth of what he was telling him.

"Kyle's dead!" Arthur felt a pang of grief for his deceased cousin.

"Oui" Francis agreed. "He is."

"How do you know him?" Arthur demanded.

"We met recently," Francis explained. "And he said 'G'day, Bunny'!"

"That sounds like Kyle," Arthur had to admit. He had no idea how this man knew the name his family called him but he was far from admitting to believing the stuff this Frenchman in eighteenth century garb was spouting.

"Mon ami," Francis replied, patiently. "You were supposed to die last night. I missed you in the fog so you didn't and I've come to collect you now. But look on the bright side, mon cher! You've had an extra day of life but it's time to go!"

"You're insane!" Arthur exclaimed and turned to Amelia. "Amelia! Wake up, love!" Amelia did not move.

"I told you before, Angleterre," Francis said. "She can't see or hear us. But she is enchanting." Francis looked down at the blonde American girl and could see why Arthur was so smitten. "Ah well! She'll mourn you and then she'll meet someone else and move on."

"Like Hell!" Arthur shot to his feet to glare at Francis while Francis shuddered at the expletive. "Let's just say I believe you, let's just say I was supposed to die last night! Had you collected me then, I would have gone with you. Last night, I expected to die but I didn't and now, thanks to your mistake, I'm in love! I've walked into this girl's life and fallen in love and I believe that she loves me."

"Ah, but mon cher!" Francis replied. "People are in love all over the world. Pilots, soldiers, sailors! But they don't complain when their time comes, do they?"

"How many fall in love after they were supposed to die?" Arthur pointed out. "I'm in love now because I didn't die which means I'm a completely different case. I can't just leave Amelia now and I don't want to. Can you make me come with you?"

"Non, _I_ can't," Francis admitted. "But it causes a very big problem if you don't come!"

"Your problem, not mine!" Arthur declared. "There must be some way I can appeal. After all, had you done your job right, I wouldn't have met Amelia! There must be some ministry of appeal I can apply to!"

Francis could not help but be moved by Arthur's passionate speech, even though it would cause trouble for him with his superiors if he could not bring this to a simple conclusion. But, Ah! L'amour!

"Very well, Angleterre!" he announced. "I will return for further instructions but you, my friend, try not to fall in love any more than you have already!" He look down at Amelia again. "Ah, yes! She is quite enchanting!" And with that, Francis disappeared.

"No thanks, Darling!" Amelia said, sleepily. Arthur turned round to face Amelia.

"What was that?" he asked, confused.

"You ask me if I wanted a drink," she replied, opening her eyes to look at Arthur's blank face. He turned back to the rock to find both hip flask cups sitting there, empty and he was sure he had filled them both. His head began to ache as he turned back to Amelia.

"You heard him, right?" he asked.

"Heard who, Honey?" Amelia asked as she sat up.

"The Frenchman," Arthur was beginning to panic and his head began to ache. "He was here. He told me I was supposed to die last night and that he was to take me to Heaven but he missed me in the fog. He wanted me to go with him and leave you behind!" Amelia gave Arthur a concerned look.

"Arthur, I didn't hear anyone!" she replied but Arthur turned and started yelling at the sky.

"WELL, I'M NOT GOING!" he shouted. "DO YOU HEAR ME?" Amelia stood up and grasped Arthur's shoulder and pulled him round to face her.

"Sweetheart, what's wrong?" she demanded. Arthur's face suddenly creased up with pain as a sharp pain stabbed him behind the eyes and he put his face in his hands as if to ease it. Amelia became scared.

"Arthur, are you all right?" she cried. The pain eased off, leaving behind an ache and Arthur looked up toward Amelia but there was something wrong. His vision was cloudy and he could not see her. She was lost behind a shadow across his eyes and he began panicking again.

"Amelia!" he cried. "Where are you? I can't see you!" Amelia was really worried now because she was right in front of his face, there was no way he could not see her. She took his face in her hands and put hers inches from his.

"I'm right here, Darling," Arthur blinked and the shadows receded from his eyes and Amelia's face appeared from the disappearing shadows. He wrapped his arms around her and held her like he would never let her go.

"I thought I'd lost you!" he declared, desperately, hugging her tighter like she would vanish like morning mist if he let go and she let him, hugging Arthur back. Something was wrong with Arthur, maybe something they had missed in the infirmary. Tomorrow she would go into the village and bring Matthew back to look Arthur over properly.

"It's going to be all right!" she promised.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New but familiar characters in the next chapter.


	4. Call The Doctor!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's concern for Arthur's health.

 

**_**Call The Doctor!** _ **

  


Doctor Matthew Williams was up in his attic, playing with his toy. His telescope was one of his pride and joys as he polished the brass and the lenses. Many a time, back in Canada he had used this telescope to watch the Aurora Borealis and to gaze at the stars in the Canadian sky. Now he gazed at the stars in a new sky, at the different constellations that hung over England.

Matthew was one of many doctors assigned to the base but, because the village itself had no doctor, he volunteered to stay in the village to tend to the residents as well as attending to his duties on the base and he was well-liked by the villagers who took the polite Canadian doctor to their hearts and liked the idea of a doctor nearby.

Matthew's telescope stood by a pair of doors that opened on to a small balcony where Matthew stood the telescope when he was stargazing and, through the open doors, he could see village life go by.

"There goes Mrs Peters, Kumajirou," he said to his pet, a big white dog that resembled a polar bear cub. "Probably off to post a letter to her daughter, eh!" Kumajirou looked up and then put his head back down and went to sleep, completely uninterested. Matthew watched as a group of girls from The Myercroft School for Young Ladies from the nearest town cycle through the village, followed by the ladies of the local WI out doing good again. And there went the land girls going out to work in the fields, Digging for Victory. Another bicycle wove its way through the village and Matthew immediately recognised the US uniform the girl on the bike wore.

"It looks like Amelia's paying us a visit, Kuma," Kuma's head came up at the name of Matthew's little sister. Matthew continued to polish his telescope, knowing that his housekeeper, Mrs Mason, would tell Amelia where he was, as if Amelia could not guess.

* * *

Amelia stopped her bicycle outside the cottage that her brother had been given as a surgery and leant it against the garden wall, opening the garden gate to be greeted by Mrs Mason, a cheerful middle aged woman who's hair was on the verge of turning completely grey, who was sweeping the front step.

"Hello, dear," she greeted as Amelia walked up the path. Amelia F Jones was not as quiet as her brother but she was like a breath of fresh air whenever she came to see the charming doctor.

"Hi, Mrs Mason," Amelia replied. "Matthew where I think he is? In the attic, tinkering with his over-sized spyglass?" Mrs Mason chuckled.

"You know your brother so well," she smiled. "Go on up! I'll make some tea!" Amelia went in and climbed the stairs, smiling. Tea! The great British icon. She climbed the stairs to the attic to find her brother cleaning the telescope lenses.

"Careful, Mattie!" she said. "You'll wear the lenses away, the amount of polishing you do!" Matthew smiled at his sister, put down his cloth and hugged her. Kuma came over and Amelia pulled a treat from her pocket and fed it to him.

"And what's this I've been hearing about you," he teased. "Finding pilots washed up on the shore after jumping from Lancaster bombers without parachutes and surviving."

"That should be classified information!" Amelia declared.

"A miraculous story like that, you can't keep quiet," Matthew replied. "It was bound to get out. The vicar and some of the old dears are calling it a miracle and the old school British officers are calling it an example of how you can't kill the British spirit! Your squadron leader's become quite a celebrity but what's this I hear about him being billeted up at Hetalia House with your guys. You know you can't go around kidnapping good-looking RAF officers because you like the shape of their nose, eh!"

"It wasn't his nose!" Amelia declared, cheekily. "It was his voice! I fell for that before I ever saw him!" Then she became serious. "But could you come and examine him? Something happen last night …."

"I know!" Matthew replied. "One of the officers at the house gave me a call last night after you took him to the sick room. I was coming in later today after surgery at 5.00pm to examine him. He's been having hallucinations about some kind of messenger coming to take him to Heaven?"

"He believes the hallucinations are real," Amelia said. Matthew nodded.

"They will be," he answered. "To him! I'll know more when I see him so I'll see you later when I get there. I know you have to get back!" Amelia nodded.

"I'll see you at five then," she said and went to the stairs. Then she turned back to her brother. "Oh, Matt!" Matthew looked over at his sister.

"He does have a cute nose too," she quipped and disappeared down the stairs, leaving her brother to chuckle.

* * *

Lieutenants Matthias Kohler and Lukas Bondevik could hear the sound of a motorcycle as they drove their army jeep down the country lane toward the base. Both men had been in England when both their countries were occupied and offered their military service to the British against a common enemy which was gratefully accepted. Matthias held the steering wheel straight and checked the wing mirror, seeing a familiar motorbike revving up behind them. No one would have thought that the polite Canadian doctor was a petrol-head but his motorbike was his other pride and joy, one he did not get to indulge in very often because of fuel rationing, although he was granted a higher ration due to his profession, needing to get to places quickly. Those on the base, who referred to Matthew Williams as 'Doc Matthew', were familiar with the good doctor's love for his bike.

"It's Doc Matthew!" Matthias grinned. "Here we go!" At the end of their journey, the Norwegian was going to strangle the Danish man for encouraging this lunacy as he stepped on the accelerator when Matthew came neck and neck with the jeep in his leather helmet and goggles. The jeep and the motorbike raced down the lane, each occasionally edging ahead of the other. Then came the fork in the road as they waved to each other and Matthew took the lane to Hetalia House and Matthias and Lukas continued on to the base.

* * *

Matthew stopped his bike in front of Hetalia House, a Georgian edifice with big windows and Romanesque columns. He stripped off his biking gloves and his helmet and goggles and put them in the pannier on his bike and made his way into the house. Matthew was told that Squadron Leader Arthur Kirkland was in the ballroom and, as Matthew went in, he found the British airman was not alone. There were many in the room, mostly American, rehearsing the play 'A Midsummer Night's Dream', making the costumes and one of the radio operators was making the poster.

"That's not how you spell Shakespeare!" the girl being fitted for her Titania costume said, pointed to the miss-spelt 'Shakespere'. The other girl snorted.

"Who are you, his agent?" she retorted. Matthew moved past them to the end of the room where his sister sat, playing chess, or trying to, with a blonde, bed-headed man with green eyes, in an RAF uniform.

"Good evening," Matthew greeted. Amelia looked up and stood to hug her brother. Arthur stood up out of his chair to meet the newcomer.

"Hi, Matt!" Amelia replied. "Arthur, this is my brother, Doctor Matthew Williams! Matt, this is Squadron Leader Arthur Kirkland!" The two men shook hands.

"Any chance of some tea?" Matt asked. Amelia nodded.

"We just ordered some," she replied and she and Arthur sat while Matthew went to get himself a chair.

"Who's winning?" he asked, indicating the chess board.

"Amelia's not bad," Arthur declared to which Amelia snorted.

"I think Arthur's being a gentleman and letting me win," she said. "I don't know one gambit from another and I think some of my moves have been illegal! Matthew, Arthur knows!"

"Knows what?"

"Why you're here!" she replied. "What you are! All about you! And that I told you all about him!" Matthew turned to Arthur.

"And have you told Amelia about your poetry?" he asked. Amelia looked between the two men.

"What poetry?"

"You didn't know this is that Arthur Kirkland!" Matthew had a collection of books on poetry and among them was a volume of prose by Arthur Kirkland but she had only seen the book once and forgotten about it.

"Oh, I didn't know!" she exclaimed. Arthur looked rather sheepish.

"I didn't want to brag!"

"I don't collect much modern poetry but I have your book," Matthew replied. "I like your point of view and I hope we can talk about it but let's get down to business." Matthew went into 'Doctor' mode. "Have you had visions or hallucinations before?" Arthur shook his head.

"What were you doing before the war?" Matthew had researched Arthur's file and launched into a series of questions to test Arthur's memory and awareness.

"I was at Oxford, studying European history," Arthur replied.

"Parents alive?" Arthur shook his head again. "Brothers? Sisters?"

"Four brothers," Arthur replied. "One in the army, one in the Home Guard, another in the Fire Service and the youngest is still at school!"

"And you're twenty-nine?"

"Twenty-seven!" Arthur corrected

"What was the cause of your father's death?" Matthew began making notes.

"Same as mine!" Matthew definitely made a note of that.

"Brain?" he asked, thinking of Arthur's episode the night before.

"No! War!"

"When?"

"1917," Amelia sat silently, wondering about all these questions but figured her brother knew what he was doing.

"Were you called up?"

"No, volunteered," Arthur replied. "Trained in Canada, went on ops in 41."

"Bombers?" Matthew asked.

"For a while," Arthur answered. "Spell as instructor, back to bombers. Lancasters!"

"Must have been on a lot of operations," Matthew commented.

"67!"

"I'm surprised they let you go with your experience!"

"New job!" Arthur clarified. "Master bomber!"

"Tough job?" Arthur shrugged.

"Someone has to do it!"

"About these headaches," Matthew asked. "When did they begin?"

"Headaches?" Arthur tried to sound nonchalant but there was a look in his eyes of someone who was being caught out. Arthur had been suffering with headaches for a while but had kept them quiet, for fear of being taken off active duty. Matthew suspected because of the severe one Arthur had suffered the night before but this confirmed that he had been having them for some time.

"I know you have them," Matthew replied. "I know you've had them for a while and kept them secret! Especially from the MO. I also know about your eyes!" The fact that the headache hit Arthur behind the eyes was significant and Arthur began to feel defensive.

"You know a lot," Matthew felt Arthur was withdrawing.

"I'd like to know more," he replied. "I need to know more if I'm going to help you. Now when did these headache start?" Arthur sighed.

"Six months ago!"

"Bad?"

"Not at first!"

"Where?" Arthur put his hand on his head off centre toward the right. Matthew made another note.

"Frontal and temporal," he said, matter-of-factly. "Ever had a bang on the head?"

"I might have been dropped on my head as a baby but not that I can remember!" Both Matthew and Amelia chuckled.

"I get the feeling I've spoilt whatever you were thinking about," Arthur commented.

"You have, actually," Matthew replied. "Do you mind if I try something?" Matthew stood up. He turned Arthur's chair so he was facing the girl dressed as Titania. "Keep your eyes forward! Now, what can you see?"

"The pretty girl in the Titania costume," Arthur replied and Amelia felt a little twinge of jealousy. Matthew nodded.

"Don't take your eyes off her!" he ordered.

"Won't be difficult!" Amelia's lips tightened. Matthew was sure Arthur knew the effect he was having on Amelia and was teasing her a little.

"Without moving your eyes," Matthew said. "What can you see on the furthest right?"

"Fireplace!"

"And on the left?" Arthur frowned. The left seemed a little cloudy and everything was slightly out of focus.

"Windows?" Arthur was not very sure.

"Anything else?"

"Curtains?"

"Colour?"

"Red!" That Arthur was sure about! Matthew patted him on the shoulder.

"That will do!" he said and went to sit back down again. Amelia decided she was not going to be ignored any more.

"Well, if you're quite finished, staring at that girl...!" Arthur's face took on a teasing smirk.

"You have to do what the doctor tells you!" he quipped.

"No loss of appetite or decrease in thirst?" Matthew asked, jotting things down again.

"No," Arthur replied.

"In fact, you been eating and drinking more than normal," it was not a question.

"Have you been looking at my mess bills?" Arthur joked.

"And you've seen something?" Matthew's voice went back to serious.

"Someone!" Arthur clarified.

"Clearly?"

"As clearly as I can see you!"

"Ever had a similar hallucination?"

"No, thank you!"

"Do you believe in the survival of the human personality after death?" Matthew asked.

"I thought you'd read my poetry!" Matthew turned to Amelia.

"What about you, Amelia?" Amelia was surprised at the question.

"I've never really thought about it," she admitted. "What about you?"

"A little," Matthew replied. "Maybe too much, I don't know! One last question!" he turned back to Arthur. "Have you ever smelt something that couldn't possibly be there?" Arthur looked surprised.

"How did you know?"

"So you have?"

"Yes," Arthur admitted. "But it's so stupid, I never would have mention it!"

"Arthur," Matthew replied. "The smallest thing could be important and tell us everything we need to know!"

"It won't tell me how I could jump out of a plane without a parachute and still be alive!"

"No," Matthew admitted. "But there's bound to be an explanation for that. Now, this Heavenly messenger! You said you saw him clearly! And this smell. Was it at the same time?"

"Yes! It was quite strong!"

"Pleasant smell?"

"Yes!"

"What was it?" Arthur gave a small laugh.

"Wine!" Matthew wrote that down.

"This messenger! Has he turned up again?"

"No but he will," Arthur replied. "He said he would."

"Arthur's lodged an appeal," Amelia said.

"Against?" Matthew asked.

"His call-up!"

"Good!" Matthew replied. "Don't give in!"

"I won't!" Arthur promised.

"I've got bad news for you," Matthew warned. "You're being re-billeted to my house. For two reasons!"

"Which are?" Arthur asked.

"One, I want to meet this man the next time he drops in," Matthew replied. "Two, I'd like my sister to drop by more often and she will if you're there."

"What about my CO?"

"I've squared it with him," Matthew said. "I'm your CO now and at my house, we have tea at five!"

"TEA BREAK!" Some privates raced in with a tea trolley piled with teacups and pastries and everybody gathered around, trying to get the best first.

"Here we get it at five-thirty!" Amelia declared with a laugh as she went to grabbed some tea and doughnuts for her brother and Arthur. Matthew looked back over his notes and then put them away with a thoughtful expression.

* * *

Arthur had been in Matthew's cottage for a few days and his favourite room was Matthew's library, surrounded by books, not just on the shelves but on the desk, tables, even on the floor. He could sit in a chair and not move, even to get a book as many were within reaching distance. The days had been filled with medical tests, discussions with Matthew about his poetry and visits from Amelia and Matthew watched the romance between Arthur and his sister and, while he approved of Arthur as a suitor, he was worried about how Arthur's state of health would affect Amelia, should it take a turn for the worse. Arthur was in the library, asleep in the comfortable armchair while Matthew and Amelia were out in the garden, playing Badminton and both were deep in competition.

"Ah ha!" Amelia laughed as the shuttlecock, hit by Matthew, hit the net fence that Matthew had stretched across the lawn. "Another one to me!" Matthew grabbed the shuttlecock and got ready to serve.

"Ready?" he asked, hit the shuttlecock into the air to the other side of the fence and it went back and forth again. It continued until Matthew missed and the shuttlecock sailed passed him.

"I wonder if Arthur's a good player," Amelia said, looking through the window at his sleeping form as Matthew picked up the shuttlecock.

"Ask him when he wakes up," Matthew replied.

"He's been asleep for two and a half hours!"

"He'll wake at eleven!"

"How do you know?"

"I gave him a sleeping tablet," Matthew replied. He felt it was best if Arthur got as much rest as he could.

"How can you tell exactly when he'll wake up?" Amelia would be amazed if Matthew could time it that precisely.

"I can't tell exactly," Matthew admitted. "But I know the patient!"

"But do you know him?" Amelia asked. She had only known Arthur for about a week or two and she could not know him well in that time. Matthew had known him even less than that.

"I think I do," Matthew told her, confidently. "I think he's fascinating!"

"So do I!" Amelia replied, with a cheeky quirk of her eyebrow.

"Medically, not biologically!" Matthew said, reproachfully as they went into the library. He poured them both a drink while Amelia looked over the open medical encyclopaedias that littered his desks.

"What do your books tell you, Mattie?" she asked. A serious look crossed Matthew's face.

"I see a dark stranger in his life," he replied, like a fortune-teller predicting doom. Amelia went over to Arthur, picked up the blanket that had fallen off his legs and put it back over him.

"What's wrong with him, Mattie?" Amelia sounded worried. "Do you know?"

"I think I do," Matthew said. He hoped he was wrong but he did not think so.

"Will he be all right?"

"He'll be fine," Matthew prayed he was not giving his sister false hope.

"Will he have any more hallucinations?"

"Yes!" Matthew sounded sure. "This collector person said he'd be back."

"Will it make him any worse?"

"Why should it?"

"I don't know." Amelia replied, her voice betraying her worry. "Seeing things, questioning his own survival, talking to someone who isn't there ….."

"To Arthur, he is!" Matthew said.

"He's not going mad, is he?" now Amelia was worried. "His brain's not being affected?"

"Yes, it is!" Matthew replied. "But not the way you think! That's why I asked him about his sense of smell."

"I did wonder about that!"

"He's suffering from highly complex hallucinations, mirroring real life," he said. "A neurologist would start looking for a connection to smell or taste. If it's there, we know where to look. I need to find out one more thing about his medical history and I should find that out soon."

"But how did he survive the jump from the bomber?"

"I don't know," Matthew replied. "It would help if we could find a reason for that but the main thing is for him to win his case!" Amelia was surprised that Matthew was taking this business seriously.

"Are you serious?"

"Very!" Matthew said. "He has to win his case! How depends on what message this collector brings!"

"But what if he loses his case?"

"If it looks like he's losing his case, we'll find out a reason why he survived," Matthew answered. "Even if we have to make one up! Fancy another game?" Amelia looked at Arthur.

"Don't worry!" Matthew reassured him. "See that bell!" He pointed to a silver bell that stood on the table near Arthur's chair. "He's promised to ring it if this collector person comes back. Now, about that game!"

"I'll beat you again!" she declared as she raced back outside with Matthew following her.

"No, you won't!" They went back into the gardens and picked up their rackets. The shuttlecock bounced back and forth and they won a game each. They started the next game and they hit the shuttlecock back and forth toward each other and then.

The shuttlecock froze in mid-air! In fact, everything froze!

Amelia was stuck in the position of having whacked the shuttlecock at Matthew while Matthew was frozen, ready to hit the shuttlecock back and not a thing had moved. In the library, Arthur's nose began to twitch as the smell of wine drifted into his nostrils and his eyes drifted open.

"Bonjour, mon ami!"

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter : Francis has news for Arthur.


	5. Right To Appeal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Francis brings good.....and bad news!

 

**_**Right to Appeal** _ **

 

Arthur kept his eyes on Francis standing in the corner as he reached for the bell on the table beside him. Francis just watched as Arthur grasped the bell, knowing what the result would be as Arthur shook the bell but there was no sound. He rang it as hard as he could but still silence. Arthur threw the blanket to one side and leapt out of his chair, hitting a table loaded with books and knocking it over. There was no sound as table and books hit the ground while Arthur raced outside.

"Matthew!" he called. "He's here!" He ran into the garden, calling out to the Canadian only to find both Matthew and Amelia frozen in place on each side of the Badminton net with the shuttlecock floating in mid-air. He waved his hand in front of Matthew's face but there was no reaction. Amelia did not react either.

Back inside the library, Francis looked down at the upended table and waved his hand. The table flew back into place and the books landed back on it with the exception of one which flew into Francis's hand, a book on chess. Arthur wandered back into the library, having been unable to rouse either Matthew or Amelia, to see what Francis had to say. When he went back in, Francis was sitting in his chair, reading the book.

"Bonjour, Angleterre! " he greeted. "Et comment allez-vous aujourd'hui? _(_ _And how are you, today?_ )."

"Not too good," Arthur admitted. Francis gave him a sympathetic look.

"Sorry to hear that, mon ami!" he commiserated. Arthur reached for the bell again. "I wouldn't bother with the bell, nothing will happen. You remember my little trick, non?" He turned a page in the book. "This looks good! Very good, in fact! I often like a game with Bourdonnais."

"Bourdonnais?"

"A great chess-master!" Francis declared. "French, naturellement! Come with me, I'll introduce you!" Arthur smiled.

"Good!" he replied.

"Splendid!" Francis perked up.

"No!" Arthur said. "You've got good news for me! If you didn't, you wouldn't be trying to entice me with this Boringnais..."

"Bourdonnais!"

"If you had the right to collect me," Arthur completed. Francis sighed. It was worth a try.

"True!" Francis admitted. "I officially have good news for you."

"Good!"

"You are allowed to appeal to the High Court," Francis announced. "It will be a full dress affair to held in three days to give you time to prepare your case,"

"This gets better."

"Don't celebrate just yet, mon chèr!" Francis warned, getting out of the chair and coming to Arthur's side. "You should prepare yourself for a shock!"

"Why?" Arthur was on guard now.

"The Prosecuting Consul," Francis said. "Is …... Jacob Blake!"

Arthur blinked. Who? Francis wondered why Arthur looked confused.

"Jacob Blake!" he emphasised. The confused look did not leave Arthur's face.

"I've never heard of him," he replied.

"Jacob Blake died in Boston in 1775," Francis explained. "Does that tell you anything?" Arthur thought over the history he had learn.

"Lexington, Concorde!" Arthur caught on. "The War of Independence! He was killed ..."

"By a British bullet!" Francis filled in the rest. "The first American to die in the conflict!" Arthur realised what Francis was getting at. This Jacob Blake had died at British hands so he was going to fight this case with everything he had.

"He's going to be prejudiced toward me!" Arthur stated the obvious. Francis gave a mirthless laugh.

"He hates your guts!" he said in no uncertain terms. "He hates the guts of every Englishman and he hates this little affair with an American-born girl!" Arthur was incensed at the accusation that he would use Amelia in such a way. He was a gentleman!

"This is not a little affair!" he denied, hotly.

"Ah! A big affair!" Francis replied. "He'll hate that with a fiery passion! And appealing the appointment won't do any good. They appointed the best man to represent the Department of Records so what you need to do is appoint a good man to represent you!"

"Defence consul?" Arthur mused. "Can I choose anyone?"

"Anyone in the other world," Francis replied. "Anyone who has ever lived on Earth, anyone at all! But don't waste any time, Jacob Blake is building his case as we speak. You can choose from the greatest minds that have ever lived! Socrates! William Pitt! ……"

"I'll give it some thought," Arthur replied. Francis tapped the chess book.

"May I borrow this?" he asked.

"It doesn't belong to me," Arthur replied. "That's Doctor Williams's book!" Francis tutted.

"Doctors!" he said with a note of derision.

"What's wrong with doctors?"

"They're always getting in the way of my work!"

* * *

The shuttlecock began moving through the air and was hit back toward Amelia by Matthew and Amelia had just hit it back when they heard the bell ringing. They dropped their rackets and went quickly to the library. When they went in, Arthur was sat in the chair, clutching his head and Matthew guessed that Arthur had had another hallucination.

"Was he here, Arthur?" he asked, urgently. Arthur looked up at him.

"Yes!" he replied, jumping up and moving to a corner of the room. "He was right here! And these were on the floor!" He knocked the books off the table that he had knocked over before, as if that would prove that it happened. Matthew grabbed his shoulders.

"Sit down, Arthur!" he ordered and Arthur obeyed and clutched his pain-riddled head again. Matthew pulled his hands away and examined Arthur's eyes. "You been doing something stressful. You and the collector have been having a heavy discussion! I hope you didn't give in to anything!"

"Not a chance!" Arthur declared.

"Good!" Matthew continued to examine Arthur and did not like what he was seeing.

"Can I stay overnight, Mattie?" Amelia asked. Arthur was clearly getting worse and she did not want to be too far away from him.

“What about your duties?” Matthew asked.

“I've taken leave,” Amelia replied. “I wanted to be close to help Arthur.” Matthew nodded.

"I'll have Mrs Mason make up the guest room," he said.

"Matthew!" Arthur said. "I want to stay with these books. Can I stay in here tonight?" Arthur wanted to read up on people from the past, to find a decent consul.

"I'll have a camp bed made up," Matthew replied and left to make arrangements.

"Amelia!" Arthur said and she sat by his side. "I'm allowed to appeal!" He cupped Amelia's cheek. "I don't want to leave you!"

"And you're not going to!" Amelia said with conviction. "It's going to be all right!"

"I need a good Defence Consul!"

"We'll find one!" Amelia replied, playing along with Arthur's delusion but she was afraid he was falling deeper and deeper into it. Then Matthew came back in with a glass of liquid, followed by Mrs Mason who was carrying bed linen. He gave the glass to Arthur.

"Drink this!" he ordered and helped him down the liquid.

"Arthur has the right to appeal," Amelia reported.

"Great!" Matthew replied. "Did you smell anything?" Arthur nodded. "The same, wine?"

"Yes," he replied and winced against the light from the window. Matthew closed the curtains to darken the room while Amelia put the blanket back over Arthur who suddenly shot up and look round.

"He took your book!" he exclaimed. "The book about chess!"

"Cheek!" Matthew replied, pushing him back into the chair. "Now I need you to rest!"

"I need to talk to you," Arthur said to Matthew.

"Sleep now, talk tomorrow!" Matthew replied. "You'll feel better then."

"No!" Arthur said, adamantly. "It's about my Defence Consul! I don't think you believe what I'm seeing!"

"Yes, we do!" Amelia lied and Matthew bent down toward Arthur.

"I'm your Defending Consul on Earth," he said. "And, as your Consul, I believe everything you tell me!"

* * *

Two days later, Matthew went out to the base on his motorbike. The information he had been waiting for had arrived by telegram and he wanted to talk to one of the other doctors about it as Arthur was getting worse and Amelia was fretting herself sick. It was pouring when he arrived, rain dripping from his biking jacket as he strolled into the infirmary and encountered one of his colleagues.

"Hello, Doctor Williams!" he greeted.

"Hello, Doctor Jackson," Matthew replied. "Is Doctor Anderson available?"

"He's just about to operate!" Matthew groaned. He needed to talk to Doctor Anderson now. "He hasn't started yet, I'll let him know you want to talk to him. He'll probably see you in the scrub-room."

"Thank you!" Matthew said and Jackson went to see Doctor Anderson.

* * *

Matthew paced the scrub-room, waiting for Doctor Anderson to arrive. He needed to talk to him now because, if he was right, time was running out for Arthur. Doctor Anderson came in, completely obscured in surgical garb, holding up his rubber-gloved hands and the door shut, indicating that someone had opened the door for him.

"Hello, Doctor Williams," he said. "What's happened?"

"He's deteriorating fast!" Matthew replied. Doctor Anderson nodded. "We need to operate tonight!" Anderson frowned. They had a lot of operations to perform and he was not sure how many they could delay.

"We're swamped right now," he replied. "How sure are you of your diagnosis?"

"Very!" Matthew said. "I got the missing fact. Arthur Kirkland suffered concussion two years ago with no after-effects but the x-ray was unclear. I've shown you the ocular reports and you're familiar with these highly organised hallucinations with a sense of smell. It all points to a retinal adhesion with an involvement with the olfactory nerve in the brain."

"It's a tricky operation," Anderson replied. "I've heard of it but I've never seen one performed."

"I have, many times," Matthew told him. "In Paris! I made some notes your surgeon can review."

"It will be Doctor Smith!" Matthew mused on that. Doctor Smith was of Germanic descent, unusual on a base full of American soldiers but he was also one of the best neurosurgeons in the world and his only interest was in saving lives so his presence was accepted, if monitored.

"Smith," Matthew replied. "He's an excellent surgeon." Anderson shook his head.

"I just don't see how it can be done tonight," he said. "Surely, it can wait another day!"

"No!" Matthew was adamant about that. "It won't! I'm afraid his brain will be permanently affected if we leave it any longer."

"Insanity?"

"Yes!" Matthew replied. "His trial is fixed for tonight and he still doesn't have a defence consul. He spend all his time in my library and only speaks to me or my sister and I have to drug him to get him to sleep. The man has a fine mind but that's part of the problem, it's too good. Creating this 'Heaven' and this trial has put his mind, and therefore his brain, under a great deal of pressure and aggravating his condition. If only his imagination was not as good as it is. And he's had discussions with this 'heavenly messenger', hallucinations, of course, but they're so imaginative! I've been building up a picture of this other world, systems, laws and the like but here's the thing! He stays within his own imagination!"

"I don't follow."

"Nothing he invents is entirely fantastic," Matthew explained. "It's all logical. He survived something that no one would normally survive so he questions it and invents this heavenly trial to decide whether he should have died or not and the keystone to all this is that he wins or loses his case which is why I think we shouldn't wait and operate tonight!" Anderson shook his head again.

"It's no good shaking your head," Matthew said. "And we have to play into his delusion and convince him of a defence consul or we could lose him!"

* * *

Arthur was asleep in the library again. In the past two days, he had been reading on deceased great thinkers, reading his poetry to Amelia and talking with Matthew when his head did not hurt (which had been happening more and more and usually happened after visits by Francis to explain the rules and laws of the trial and to try and choose a Defence Consul). All other times he was sleeping, courtesy of sleeping draughts from Matthew. How he found himself sitting on a stairway with Francis, he had no idea. Everything was white and the stairway was lined with statues that Francis pointed out as possible defenders as they went past.

"What about him?" Francis asked as they passed the statue of a rather famous American president.

"Lincoln!" Arthur considered that for a moment. Abraham Lincoln would not let the fact that Arthur was British interfere with defending him but that man had already been through a war where American stood against American and he did not think it right to put him through something similar so he shook his head. "I don't think it's fair to drag him into this!" Francis shrugged and looked at another statue.

"How about being defended by Plato?" he suggested. "After all, he was the master of reason!"

"He was quite old when he died," Arthur mused. "So I'm not sure how important he would consider love, he might have gotten over all that by then. Besides, I think he quoted Socrates when someone asked him if he could still appreciate a woman!"

"What did he say?" Francis really wanted to know.

"He said," Arthur replied. " _'I'm only too glad to be rid of all that! It was like being in bondage to a raving madman!'_ " Francis huffed indignantly.

"These Greeks are as cold as their marble!" he declared. "You would not get such a response from a Frenchman! Richelieu, for example! How about Richelieu?" Arthur shook his head.

"Never liked him in The Three Musketeers," he replied. Francis put his chin on the heel of his hand and sighed, willing Arthur to find a defender to his liking.

"You have to choose someone!" he said. "You only have a few hours left to find a defender!"

"It's a good idea to have all these great people to choose from," Arthur explained. "But what do they know of the modern world, of men and women today?" Francis had to admit that Arthur had a point, these men had not lived in the world for centuries.

"True!" he concurred. "Not much!"

"Besides, I don't think it should be anyone famous," Arthur said. "But someone with a good head on his shoulders." Francis nodded at the idea.

"This Jacob Blake," Arthur continued. "Was he a famous man?"

"He was the first American to be killed by a British bullet," Francis reminded him.

"But was he famous?" Arthur asked. "Like a philosopher or statesman?"

"He was a school-teacher," Francis replied. Arthur smiled.

"There you are!" he declared. "Someone like Plato would ….." Then he realised that something was wrong. For someone who represented the people Arthur was struggling against, Francis was being awfully accommodating.

"Why are you so interested in my winning my case?" he asked. Francis put his hand on his chest as if to say 'moi!' but it seemed exaggerated. Then Arthur noticed! He had thought the statues were going past them but he realised that they were going past the statues as the stairway climbed through the clouds. He stood up.

"Why is this stairway going up?" he demanded. "You're trying to trick me, aren't you!"

"How can you suggest such a thing!" Francis looked offended but Arthur did not care.

"You're not fooling me, you know," he declared. "And you don't get me that easily!" Arthur turned and began running down the stairs as fast as he could.

"ARTHUR!" Francis shouted after him but Arthur paid no attention as he tried to get down the stairway but it was like he was almost running on the spot and he ran faster. He made some headway but not as much as he wanted. Francis was still shouting after him and it spurred him on. The bottom of the stairs was slowly coming toward him. Too slowly! Dear Lord, they were going to get him!

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Run, Arthur, Run!  
> There is no Jacob Blake that I know of, he's made up as there's no way to truly know which American was the first killed in the War of Independence. (My apologies, I'm British!)  
> I don't know much about brain conditions. Arthur's was in the film but here's the question? Is Arthur really in a legal battle with Heaven or is it just the symptom of an undiagnosed condition that has slowly been getting worse?  
> Your thoughts please......


	6. Consul For The Defence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur finds a consul but it comes at a price.

 

****Chapter Six : Consul for the Defence** **

  


_"Arthur!"_

_"Arthur!"_

"Arthur!" Amelia's panicked voice cut across his consciousness and he found himself off the stairway and back in the chair in Matthew's library. He was covered in sweat and his head was splitting while outside, the rain that had plagued the land all day had built into a storm and he could hear it howling. Matthew came to his side, holding a hypodermic needle and gave him an injection as a clap of thunder boomed above their heads. After the injection, Arthur began to settle.

"He almost got me!" he muttered.

"He'll be all right soon," Matthew reassured Amelia and then added with frustration, "Where's the ambulance? It should have been here half an hour ago!" He turned to Amelia. "Go call Doctor Smith and tell him we must operate tonight, it's life or death! And tell them about the ambulance! Oh! And send a telegram to his brothers!" Amelia raced to do what Matthew told her to and Matthew went to see to Arthur who grabbed his arm.

"Where's Amelia?" Arthur demanded. He wanted to see Amelia!

"She's on the phone," Matthew replied. "She'll be back soon!"

"He almost got me!" Arthur said, again. Matthew nodded.

"So I see!" he replied.

"Sneaky frog!" Arthur gasped. "I barely got away!"

"Don't let anyone convince you to give up this case!" Matthew ordered. "You've been given the right to appeal, use it! You have a right to a fair trial so don't give in!"

"I have no consul!"

"We'll find someone!" Matthew replied. "The right man! They can't start your trial without your consul!" Matthew hoped that would convince Arthur to hold on long enough to get him to the base hospital.

"They might appoint someone!" Arthur muttered. "Some idiot that might throw the case! Or they might decide in favour of the opposition by default!"

"Nonsense!" Matthew did not like the way Arthur was talking. He had to get Arthur fighting back again. "We'll find someone, they can't start without your consul!" Matthew got up to see if Amelia had got through on the telephone. With the storm, a line could be down.

"Matthew!" Arthur called him back. "No one famous!"

"Absolutely not!" Matthew agreed. "That would be the worse thing!" If Arthur had to maintain the illusion of a famous person, that could push him over the edge. "What about a friend? Your cousin Kyle perhaps?" Imagining Kyle would not overtax Arthur's mind as he would be familiar with his cousin's mannerisms and personality. "Think it over!" And Matthew went to see if the ambulance was coming but he was met by Amelia coming back in with Mrs Mason on her heels.

"I can't get through!" she said. "The phone's dead!"

"It's the storm, Doctor," Mrs Mason replied. "Storms always knock the phone out!" Matthew cursed under his breath.

"I'll go on my bike!" Amelia declared. She had to get through somehow, Arthur's life depended on it but there was no way Matthew could allow that. His sister on a pedal bicycle in a full-blown storm! No way!

"No!" he said, adamantly. "I'll go on my motorbike, you're more valuable here. I need you to keep Arthur motivated! If the ambulance arrives, don't wait for me. If I meet it, I'll come back. Now, sit with Arthur and don't let him despair, his life is in your hands!" Amelia turned her worried face to her brother, her eyes bright with yet-to-fall tears. He gave her a reassuring kiss on her cheek.

"Everything will be fine!" he promised. "So be brave, eh!" She nodded and Matthew left the room. Amelia sat beside Arthur who grabbed her hand and held it like he would never let it go

* * *

Matthew ran into his garage in his biking jacket and leather helmet and goggles. He mounted his motorcycle while Mrs Mason moved to the doors to open them for Matthew and the wind blew her clothes around her and splattered her with rain. Matthew started his bike and the headlight lit up the darkness and Mrs Mason stood to one side as Matthew rode his bike into the wet blackness and she said a prayer for everything to be all right!

* * *

Amelia gently stroked Arthur's face, the sweat on his brow worrying her. He was getting worse and she was scared that she was going to lose him.

"Where's Matthew?"

"He'll be right back, Sweetheart," Amelia promised.

"I need to talk to him!" Arthur said. "I don't think Kyle's quite right for my Consul!"

"I'll tell him," Amelia replied.

"You never met Kyle," Arthur continued. "He was my Australian cousin and Flight Engineer. He would have liked you."

"We'll find someone!" Amelia said with determination. "Matthew will come up with something, I know he will!"

"I hope he hurries!"

* * *

The storm-blown rain, combined with the speed of the bike, battered into Matthew and stung his face where he was unprotected by his goggles but he ignored it. What he could not ignore was the rain drops obscuring his vision and he wiped at his goggles, his headlight barely making a dent in the darkness but he continued along the rain-soaked lane as fast as he safely could but he was pushing it but he had no choice! Arthur's life hung in the balance!

* * *

Lukas and Matthias had been assigned to the ambulance to bring in Squadron Leader Arthur Kirkland from Doctor Williams's cottage but they had been forced to find an alternative route when they found the main lane flooded. They had managed to get back on the main lane again and were racing down it, the ambulance's windscreen wipers flapping the raindrops away.

"We should have been there thirty minutes ago," Lukas said. Matthias huffed.

"It's not my fault the lane was washed out!" he said, peering into the night, trying to see the road. "Blame the English weather! There would have to be an emergency in the middle of a storm!"

"Let's just get there!" Lukas replied. "This sounds like a bad …...

…..LOOK OUT!"

* * *

The ambulance seemed to suddenly appear in Matthew's headlight and he had mere seconds to react! He veered off to the left and missed the ambulance by centimetres but with no time to stop, he crashed through a field gate and flew through the air. His last sight before everything went black was of his beloved motorcycle in flames.

* * *

Matthias caught a glimpse of the rider as he turned the ambulance to the right, knowing he had only just missed him but, as he stopped the vehicle, he heard the sound of a crash. He turned to Lukas who was shaking himself out of the shock of the close call.

"That was Doctor Williams!" he exclaimed and looked out of his side window to see fire, even in the rain, in the field across from them. Lukas got out of the ambulance, followed shortly by Matthias who took a moment to grab the ambulance's fire extinguisher. They ignore the rain and they ran into the field, Matthias using the extinguisher on the burning bike while Lukas ran to Matthew's prone body to check him over. A combination of the extinguisher and the rain made short work of the fire and Matthias heaved a sigh of relief as he turned to look over at Lukas knelt over Matthew's body who slowly turned to look back at Matthias.

And shook his head.

* * *

Amelia was relieved to see the ambulance but it brought devastating news, delivered by a guilt-ridden Matthias and Lukas. Her sweet, beloved brother was gone! In the back was the shrouded body of her brother with the Danish and Norwegian drivers having to break the news of what happened. There had been nothing they could do for Matthew and they still had an emergency! Besides, they believed the Canadian doctor would want them to continue their assignment and get Arthur Kirkland to the base hospital to get the surgery he so desperately needed. Amelia wanted to fall apart and grieve for her brother but she would have to do that later because, right now, someone else needed her. Arthur needed her.

They loaded Arthur on to the second stretcher and put him on the left-hand side of the ambulance, the stretcher holding Matthew's body on the right. While Matthias drove them back to the base, Lukas sat in the back, tending to Arthur with Amelia who was both caring for Arthur and grieving for Matthew." He never saw us until it was too late!" Lukas explained, giving the shrouded stretcher a glance. "He turned off to avoid hitting us. I feel awful about it, Doctor Williams was a good man!"

"It wasn't your fault," Amelia replied, tears falling down her cheeks. She found that she could not blame Lukas or Matthias, it was just a tragic accident in a storm and what good would it do? It would not bring Matthew back. Lukas took Arthur's pulse.

"He was really interested in this case, wasn't he?" Lukas had heard things around the base, about the Squadron Leader who had leapt from a burning Lancaster bomber without a parachute into the English Channel and was washed ashore alive and how Doctor Williams had taken him in when he began to fall ill. Lukas was determined to do his part to finish what Doctor Williams started and get Arthur Kirkland where he needed to go to get the surgery he needed to save his life.

"Yes," Amelia replied, simply. She was not really up to talking much right now.

"All the doctors said that Doctor Williams's diagnosis was a fine piece of work," Lukas said. "I heard he left notes for the operation for Doctor Smith!" Amelia turned to the Norwegian driver.

"Doctor Smith is good, isn't he?" she asked. She had already lost one important person in her life. If she lost another, she did not think she could take it! Lukas nodded.

"He's one of the best!" he promised. Arthur began to stir.

"Matthew!" he gasped. Amelia squeezed his hand and Arthur squeezed back.

"I'm here, sweetheart," she said, gently.

"Where's Matthew?" Amelia fought to keep the tears from falling again and the sad look from her face.

"He's gone on ahead," she replied, which was true in a way but something must have shown on her face.

"He's had an accident, hasn't he!" Amelia looked at Lukas who shook his head to say that he had said nothing when they had collected Arthur, still conscious, from the cottage. Amelia turned back to Arthur and nodded.

"A bad accident," she replied, fresh tears falling from her eyes.

"Is he dead?" Amelia nodded again and more tears fell.

"Yes!" she said. "He's dead!" Arthur turned his head away and drifted back into unconsciousness again. Just then, the ambulance stopped and they were at the base hospital. The doors of the ambulance opened and orderlies climbed inside, taking Arthur's stretcher and carrying him out, making room for others to take Matthew to the Morgue while Arthur was rushed to the operating theatre. Amelia gave her brother one last look as they carried him away and then she followed Arthur.

Arthur watched the white ceiling pass over his head, sometimes interrupted by lights as he was swept into the operating theatre. He looked to the side and caught one last glimpse of Amelia before the door cut off sight of her. He vowed he would see her again, that he would not let this Heavenly trial separate them, no matter what! Two nurses stood over Arthur in the operating theatre as they prepared him for surgery.

"Is this the cranial case, sister?" one of the nurses asked.

"Yes, nurse!" the other replied and looked down at Arthur. "We're ready for you, Squadron Leader." Arthur drifted off again.

* * *

He woke again just as they were ready for surgery with a big light over his head and people moving around him. A nurse prepared the surgery tray while the anaesthetist checked his equipment and other medical staff got everything they might need ready. Amelia was watching from the windows in the doors as a nurse began to prep his head for the operation. She could not help but worry that Arthur would not come out of this.

Doctor Smith, completely swathed in surgical garb and mask, with only his pale blue eyes showing, came into the theatre and they were ready. The anaesthetist brought the mask down over Arthur's nose and mouth, making him breathe in the consciousness-stealing gas. His eyes slowly closed and he finally sank into oblivion.

* * *

Francis was waiting as the new arrivals came in, waiting for a certain person who had been chosen for a special task. Then he spotted who he was there to meet. A man in his seventies, carrying a book, was leading an attractive young man in his twenties, dressed in a motorcycle jacket with violet eyes and blond hair with a stray curling strand. He approached the couple with a purpose.

"Doctor Williams!" he greeted. Matthew turned to the Frenchman dressed in clothes of the eighteenth century and suspected that he had just met Arthur's collector.

"Yes?" he asked. The Frenchman handed him a book. His book on chess.

"I believe this is yours," Francis said, confirming that he was the one who was sent for Arthur. "I shall introduce you to Bourdonnais." He turned to the old man. "This is a special case, mon ami. The Court of Appeal. I'll take him from here." The old man opened the book he was carrying and Francis signed it, taking responsibility for Matthew.

"Good luck, my young friend!" the man said to Matthew and left. Francis indicated for Matthew to follow him.

“You must be the one Arthur told me about,” Matthew commented. “The one sent to 'collect' him.” Francis gave an affirming nod.

“Comte Francis Bonnefoy, at your service,” Francis introduced himself with a bow. "And how is dear Arthur?" Matthew gave him a considering look.

"He has a fighting chance!" he declared. He was not going to show any doubt in front of this man.

"Ah!" Francis simply said and took him to the court of appeal.

* * *

Francis took Matthew before Gaia who was surrounded by everyone involved with the current issue, including Kyle Kirkland who was stood to the side. Francis gave a little bow.

"Doctor Matthew Williams," he introduced.

"Doctor Williams," Gaia said. "I believe that you're familiar with the case concerning Squadron Leader Arthur Kirkland."

"I am," Matthew replied. He had a feeling that he knew why he was there.

"He's chosen you to be his Defending Consul!" Matthew smiled.

"I thought he might."

"And you accept?" she asked.

"I do!"

"What facilities do you need?"

"I would like to see my client," Matthew replied. "And get instructions from him." He noticed a young man in a flight uniform with eyebrows, not quite as big as Arthur's but still big, desperately trying to get his attention and made a guess as to his identity.

"And I also would like to enlist Flight Engineer Kyle Kirkland as an assistant," he added. Kyle smiled.

"Of course!" Gaia agreed and turned to Francis. "Escort Doctor Williams to Squadron Leader Arthur Kirkland!" Francis bowed.

"I suggest you work quickly, Doctor!" Gaia advised. "You have very little time. Use it well!"

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry to all the Canada fans out there but Arthur needed a consul.


	7. The Court of Appeal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The trial begins....

 

**_**The Court of Appeal** _ **

  


Amelia watched as the medical staff in the theatre worked on the man who had come to mean so much to her. She had lost her brother, she could not stand the thought of losing Arthur too. Although a sheet was held up to hide the operation, Amelia could see Doctor Smith's hands work like a artist's, using his scalpel like a brush as he performed his life-saving surgery on Arthur. Amelia went to brush her hair from the side of her face and then …..everything froze! Matthew and Francis appeared in the operating theatre among the medical team while Kyle got a good look at the girl that had Arthur digging his heels in. Francis made his way to the head of the operating table.

"Arthur!" he called. "Arthur!" Arthur appeared from behind the sheet and became fascinated with seeing his own body on the table but Francis waved at him to follow and they went to the doors and walked straight through them, although Arthur took a moment, not sure if he could do the same thing.

"Kyle!" Arthur exclaimed at seeing his deceased Australian cousin who hugged him. "It's good to see you!"

"Great to see you too, Arthur," Kyle replied. "You've been causing quite a bit of trouble upstairs, you know."

"I never expected to ever see you again," Arthur said. "Down here or up there!"

"You can thank Doctor Williams for that," Kyle replied.

"I commandeered him as my assistant," Matthew explained. "Now we need to talk!" Arthur indicated to the operating theatre.

"They won't notice I'm gone, will they?" he asked. Francis laughed.

"Not for a moment, mon ami!" he replied. Matthew looked through the door windows at Doctor Smith in mid-cut.

"He's good!" he said. "Very neat! You're in good hands, Arthur! Now then ….."

"I know what you're going to say," Arthur interrupted him. "Yes, I'm quite sure I want you to be my defending consul."

"I could be in over my head," Matthew warned but Arthur shook his head.

"I have every faith in you," he replied, adamantly.

"If he starts spouting politics, I'm done for!"

"Tell me who wouldn't be! Say yes, Matthew! Please!"

"He has no choice, mon chèr," Francis said.

"Then why are we arguing?" Arthur asked. Matthew shrugged.

"Alright!" he said. "We'll need evidence in our favour. Something that shows that this is Love and not just infatuation!" Arthur waved them over to Amelia.

"Just look at her," he replied and all of them turned to stare at the frozen Amelia.

"She looks like a nice girl!" Kyle exclaimed. Matthew huffed.

"Well, don't sound too surprised!" he said. "She's my sister, of course she's a nice girl!" Kyle gave an apologetic grin. Arthur just stared into Amelia's sky blue eyes.

"This is the girl I love," he replied. "Her accent is different to mine but I love it. We were born an ocean apart but we were always meant to meet!"

"Very poetic!" Matthew said with a soft smile. Arthur blushed.

"Sorry!"

"The Language of Love, mon ami," Francis replied. "No need to be ashamed!"

"I want to kiss her," Arthur said. "Just in case!"

"She will not feel it, mon chèr."

"Doesn't matter," Arthur moved forward and brushed his lips over Amelia's. Francis sighed. So English! Why kiss a girl if she can't feel it? Arthur stood back and Francis spotted something.

"Look!" he exclaimed. "The evidence you wanted!" He pointed to Amelia's face. A tear glistened by her eye and began to fall. It should not have happened while Amelia was frozen! Was this love great enough to break through the time freeze? It was compelling evidence indeed!

Matthew saw the tear as well, including the implications.

"I wish I could take it with me," he said.

"You can do as you wish," Francis declared. "It's your right as consul!" Kyle frowned.

"How can we take a tear?" he asked. Francis took the rose out of his lapel and put it gently to Amelia's cheek where the tear transferred to one of the petals.

"I hope this is enough," Matthew said. "It's the only real evidence we have!"

* * *

Arthur returned to unconsciousness on the operating table while Matthew, Kyle and Francis hurried back to Heaven to get ready for the trial. It was a full regalia affair and Francis was garbed in eighteen century court dress as he gently put the rose down on the evidence table on the defence platform.

The seating in the Heavenly court room went on into the distance but there was not an empty seat anywhere. Nurses, soldiers, sailors, airmen, people from every century, some hoping for a favourable decision for the Records Department but more than a few were on Arthur's side, the romance of it all appealing to many.

On the other side of the courtroom was an identical platform where the prosecuting consul would stand and, between these two platforms was a third one with two levels. On the first level were four seats, before which four people of differing nationalities from differing centuries stood and on the top level was a single chair, square and made of white marble, ready for a special occupant. Everyone stood up as a figure in robes made his way up to the top level. He had long blonde hair with a thin braid on each side and blue eyes and he sat in the chair and arranged his robes as everyone else sat down as well.

"The Court of Appeal," the judge announced, with a German accent but it was old German from centuries ago. "Is here to consider the case of The Department of Records vs Squadron Leader Arthur Alfred Kirkland of the British Royal Air Force! He claims negligence and superior rights and responsibilities arising from said negligence. He's appealing for remission of the date of his term on Earth and for his case to be examined. It has been decided to allow this appeal and it is up to the jury to decide if it should be successful." He looked down at the jury.

"Members of the Jury," he ordered. "Consider only the facts and be led only by your conscience. The Consul for the Prosecution will take his place!"

All eyes turned to the platform for the prosecution as men in robes filed into view. They separated and another man came from behind them. Jacob Blake was a tall man with black hair and deep blue eyes but the thing that really stood out was he was wearing the blue uniform of the Revolutionary War. The judge turned toward the other platform.

"The Consul for the Defence will take his place!"

Matthew stepped out alone and stood beside the table bearing the rose, taking a deep breath to steady his nerves. He just hoped he did not let Arthur down.

Jacob Blake looked across at his opponent. It made sense that the Canadian doctor would defend the Englishman. They were, or had been, friends, the young American girl the Englishman claimed to love was Williams's half-sister, Canada still had connections with Britain and the two countries were allies in the current conflict as was America but his last moments on Earth were still clear in his mind. The sight of British uniforms, the sound of the shot, the pain of the bullet, his death!

The Judge turned back to Jacob.

"I call on the prosecution to open the case!"

Jacob took off his hat in respect, giving it to one of his attendants and stepped forward.

"Your Honour!" he began, looking at the Judge and then the Jury. "Members of the Jury! There are two points to this case. Arthur A Kirkland, __an_ Englishman _ , should have died on the 2nd of May. Due to an error, which I must say is not typical of a great service." And he bowed to the representatives of the Records Department. "The claimant did not die! Therefore, point one! Who is responsible? When informed that he must report some twenty hours later, he refused, claiming that, in the borrowed time, that he had taken on new and permanent responsibilities. He claimed that, in those twenty hours, he had fallen in love with a young _American-born_ lady and that she had fallen in love with him. So, point two! Is this true? That in these twenty hours which he had borrowed …..." Matthew decided to intervene.

"Your Honour," he interrupted. "I object to the word _borrowed!_ To borrow is to be given temporary use of something without being the true owner! My client wasn't loaned this time, nor did he take it so it was neither borrowed nor stolen, it was given to him so it was his. He simply carried on living his life." The Judge nodded to acknowledge this point which pleased Matthew. The _borrowed_ comments were subtle attempts to convince everyone that Arthur was on Earth when he should have been in Heaven. A way of swaying the Jury.

"The point is," Jacob continued. "Is this young _Englishman_ in love with this young _American-born_ lady and, more importantly, is she in love with him?" Matthew decided to bring up another issue.

"Why do you stress their nationalities?"

"Because it is relevant, sir," Jacob replied. "We are talking about Love!"

"It can happen between an Englishman and an American girl," Matthew pointed out. In the audience, an American airman who was sat by the stairs between sections, looked across at a young woman in a British Army uniform and said, "And visa versa!"

"True," Jacob acknowledged. "But what are these feelings of Love in another country, Doctor Williams? Men and women away from their homes and families, homesick and longing for companionship. Bright brief sparks instead of enduring flames! The Love of the Moment, Doctor! Is that Love or merely infatuation? How many of these end in lasting marriage? Maybe one in ten thousand!"

"And that is my case, sir," Matthew declared. He had to admit, Jacob made good points so Matthew had to make to the point that, since True Love was so rare, they should be careful not to throw it away without careful consideration.

"That, sir, you have to prove!" Jacob declared. "When our men and women came to Britain to be allies, it was not to be subjugated!" Matthew snorted. This man was clearly still stuck in the Revolutionary War, the world had moved on. As Jacob pointed out, Britain and America were now allies.

"May I point out," Matthew replied. "We are living in the twentieth century, not the eighteen!"

"May I point out," Jacob retorted. "We are not alive at all!" Matthew had to admit Jacob had him there.

"Good point!" he conceded.

"And I am aware of the changing times," Jacob disputed. "I've been watching Britain from up here! The wars, politics and activities! Would you say that Arthur A Kirkland is a good Englishman?"

"Yes. I would!" Matthew said with conviction. One of Jacob's assistants brought a box and he took out a glass and held it up.

"This is the glass from which Benedict Arnold drank the health of George III," Jacob announced and let it drop to the floor where it smashed. "Does it break because of that or because it's just glass?" He took a sheet of paper and tore it in half. "Can I tear this paper because it's defective or just paper? We are as we were made but our ancestors have had influence in shaping us too."

"The Jury will note that I quite agree," Matthew replied. "May I ask where Mr Blake's grandfather was born?" Jacob stayed silent.

"Could it be England?" Matthew asked with a slight smile. Jacob's lips tightened.

"He left because he didn't like it!" he replied. "He would not have liked it any better today!" Another assistant brought a radio to Jacob who turned it on. A man was droning on about a cricket match and Matthew had to admit it sounded very boring.

"The voice of England in the present day!" Jacob declared, interrupting the boring commentary. "Is this an English voice, sir?" Matthew did not know what to do to counter this tactic until Francis appeared at his side, also with a radio and Matthew smiled.

"The voice of America in the present day!" he announced and turned the radio on.

 

_Shoo, shoo, shoo baby!_

_(Wah!)_

_Shoo, shoo, shoo baby!_

_(Wah!)_

_Bye, bye, bye baby!_

_(Wah!)_

_Your Papa's off to the seven seas!_

 

Jacob just looked at the radio, perplexed. What was that? Was it really American?

"I don't understand a word!" he admitted. Matthew turned off the radio and smiled.

"Neither do I!" Matthew replied. "But for England, I'm willing to call Pope, Wordsworth, Shakespeare …." Matthew rhymed off the greatest of English writers and poets, all of whom were acknowledged even in America. Jacob waved his hand.

"I concede your point," he said.

"And Arthur Kirkland!"

"Is he a poet?" Jacob asked.

"He's made a beginning," Matthew replied. "So he could be, given the chance!"

"That is what we are here to decide!"

"I can't argue with that!"

* * *

The anaesthetist watched carefully over the anaesthetising equipment as it kept Arthur unconscious while Doctor Smith worked on the man on the operating table. Amelia watched as a nurse mopped Smith's brow then suddenly, the pump on the anesthetiser began to work faster. Smith looked over at his anaesthetist who was checking the machine. Amelia's heart jumped into her mouth as the drama unfolded. Then the machine went back to normal rate and the anaesthetist nodded to Doctor Smith who resumed the operation while Amelia breathed a sigh of relief.

* * *

"Arthur Kirkland's character, just like everyone else's, has been formed by circumstances," Jacob declared. "By many connecting circumstances. Benjamin Franklin said _For want of a nail, the shoe was lost. For want of the shoe, the horse was lost. For want of a horse, the rider was lost. For want of a rider the message was lost. For want of a message, the kingdom was lost. And all for the want of a horse shoe nail!_ I take it you've heard of Benjamin Franklin?" Jacob smiled, smugly.

"I say in George Washington's words," Matthew responded. " _Labour to keep in your breast, that little spark of celestial fire called conscience!_ "

"No Englishman could say something like that," Jacob claimed.

"What was George Washington?" Matthew pointed out. Born in an English colony, George Washington would have been considered originally English, something Jacob could not argue with.

"Are you saying that there's something wrong with my conscience?"

"Yes, I am!" Matthew declared. “This is meant to be a trial to decide the life and death of a young man and the continuing love he found, due to a mistake made by others, yet you are using this trial as a means to air old grievances best forgotten. Perhaps we should return to the real point of this trial”

"Your Honour, I protest!" Jacob exclaimed. "I'm merely trying to give a true account to the Jury!"

"You're trying to prejudice the Jury against my client!" Matthew accused. Jacob just smiled.

"I don't need to!" he announced. "They're already prejudiced against Britain and they have good reason! Look closely at the members of the jury, Doctor!" Matthew looked toward the Jury. Each stood up to introduce themselves.

" _François Bonnefoy, French!_ " The first one who bore a resemblance to Francis announced. Francis almost groaned, François was an ancestor of his.

"Has there ever been a century when there hasn't been a conflict between England and France?" Jacob sounded smug. The next stood up.

 _" _Viktor Bogdanov, Russian!_ _ "

"The Crimean War, Doctor Williams!"

" __Wang Yao, Chinese!_ " _

"The English attack on China in 1857!"

" __Ranjid Saddig. Indian!_ " _

"India's interaction with the British Empire, Doctor!" Jacob said. "Need I say more? Choose a new jury from anywhere, they will always be against England!" Jacob smiled, smugly but Matthew surprised him

"Your Honour!" he said. "I wish to take the consul's advice and request that a new jury be chosen!"

"From where, Doctor Williams?" Jacob asked.

"You said from anywhere," Matthew replied.

"Not England!"

"Why not from England?" Matthew demanded, since Jacob had already made the case that people from any other country would let past grievances cloud their judgement, thereby making a fair trial for Arthur impossible. "Where else have the rights of the individual been valued?"

"In America!" Jacob declared. "Where these rights are held inalienable!"

"There's just as much freedom in England as in America," Matthew replied. "An Englishman think as he likes, in politics and religion!"

"An American lives in freedom from the moment he's born," Jacob declared. "He feeds on it with the milk from the breast of his mother! Even after my death, I watched proudly as my fellow Americans created the constitution, guaranteeing the freedom of all Americans. Freedom from sea to shining sea!"

Americans began to applaud this speech and Matthew wondered if they were ever going to get to the real issue of Arthur's life, rather than English culture vs American! Jacob Blake's entire view was clearly coloured by his experience and death in the Revolutionary War but times had changed so Matthew decided to give Jacob a shock!

"Then I choose a jury of Americans!" Now Brits began applauding. They did not know what the Canadian was doing but they suspected he had some plan. Jacob had not been expecting that but Matthew was not finished.

"Of Americans!" he clarified. "From every walk of life! But if one has fought in the War of Independence, I want one who has fought, as our ally in our current conflict! If the third has a mind entrenched in the past, I want the fourth to be looking to the future! I believe... no!.... I know that this jury will judge this case, unprejudiced by past wrongs long forgotten by the modern world and will come to the right judgement!" Applause came from various nationalities at Matthew's passionate speech. "For I am fighting for the rights of the Common Man against the system!"

"But you are fighting against the law too, Doctor Williams," Jacob had to admit to being impressed by the Canadian's speech but he would not let it deter him from winning this case. "The Eternal Law of the Universe. Nothing is stronger than the law, on which the Universe is built!"

"This is not a Court of Law!" Matthew refuted. "It is a Court of Justice!" He turned to the Judge. "Your Honour, I ask for a jury of American citizens!" The Judge turned to Jacob.

"Do you agree, Mr Blake?"

"Most readily, Your Honour!" The Judge looked down at the present jury.

"The jury will please retire!" The jury stood and vanished to be replaced by new jurors.

The Frenchman was replaced with another man with brown hair and green eyes.

" _Henri Picard, American citizen!_ " he introduced himself with a trace of a French accent. The next man stepped forward.

" _Ivan Braginski, American citizen! "_ The silver haired, violet eyed man showed his Russian heritage. The next juror was a Chinese girl with black hair and dark brown eyes.

" _Wang Chung-yan, American citizen! "_ Matthew could see where this was going as the next juror stepped forward, another girl from India, also with black hair and brown eyes.

"Ayushi ___Meela, American citizen!_ _ _ _"_ Jacob looked smug while Matthew wondered if his tactic had backfired but he was still hopeful about the new jury's impartiality.

"The new jury may sit," the Judge ordered and they sat down. The Judge turned to Matthew.

"Begin your case, Defence Consul!" Matthew indicated to the rose on the table beside him.

"Here in this flower is my case!" he announced. "I must agree with the Prosecuting Consul. Has Arthur Kirkland fallen in love in the allotted extra ….."

"Borrowed, Doctor Williams!"

"Disputed extra twenty hours," Matthew clarified. "Or hasn't he? Has someone fallen in love with him? These two people would never have met, had a mistake by Higher Powers had not been made! They are being punished for doing something very natural! They fell in love! While frozen in time, Amelia Jones wept this tear while Arthur Kirkland was fighting for his life and, in this tear on this flower are love, truth and friendship, strong enough to break even the power of Heaven! Those traits can create a new world and build a better one and that's what I'm fighting for and demand that Arthur Kirkland's life continue!" The jury huddled together to confer with each other. Ivan Braginski, who seemed to have become the spokesperson for the group, stood up.

"Your Honour!" he addressed the Judge. "The jury feel that this girl and the claimant should be allowed to speak so we can hear this case from their perspective!" Matthew felt hopeful at this turn of events, Amelia just might be able to convince them.

"Nothing's impossible," he said. The Judge and the rest of the jurors stood up.

"The court will adjourn!" And it was arranged to take the trial to Earth!

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I got a fiendish thrill of delight, having Ivan refer to himself as an American citizen.
> 
> Next Chapter : Arthur and Amelia face the Court.


	8. Judgement!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Final chapter. The Court reach a decision.

 

**_**Judgement!** _ **

  


It was almost silent in the operating theatre, broken only by the sound of the anaesthetising machine that was keeping Arthur unconscious while Doctor Smith worked carefully to repair the injury to Arthur's brain. It was slow going and Doctor Smith stopped for a moment so a nurse could mop his brow then he went back to his work as Amelia continued to watch from the windows unaware of the stairway that invisibly climbed down to the floor, bringing the Court with it. When it touched the ground everything went still!

"I see no reason to keep time frozen," the Judge declared. "They still can't see us!" The Jury conferred and Ivan came forward.

"It may show a true picture of the situation, Your honour!" The judge nodded and everyone began to move again. Doctor Smith put down the scalpel he had been using and picked up a clamp while everybody waited to do whatever he needed them to next.

"I call Squadron Leade …...," Jacob began and then became aware of Matthew talking to Francis as they watched the operation continue.

"I was right!" Matthew said. "A adhesion binding the optic nerve to the brain ….." Matthew drone on a little, trying Jacob's patience somewhat.

"Did I tell you about my little operation?" Francis replied, making a cutting motion across his neck in a reference to his death by guillotine.

"Doctor Williams!" Jacob said, exasperated. "We are not here to validate your diagnosis! We are here to ask Squadron Leader Kirkland questions about this case!" Matthew nodded, apologetically.

"Quite right," he agreed. "My apologies!" Jacob turned back to the scene in front of them.

"I call Squadron Leader Arthur A Kirkland!" he announced. Arthur climbed off the table and approached the Court assembly. He found himself in full RAF uniform, what he was wearing when he should have died and Arthur could not help but think that there was a connection, almost an expectation that he was going to lose and he did not like the implication.

"Hello, Arthur," Matthew greeted.

"Hello, Matthew," Arthur said back. "How's the operation going?"

"Just fine," Matthew replied. "Smith's a very good doctor!"

"I hope so!" Behind Matthew, Kyle waved at his cousin and Arthur waved back.

"Squadron Leader Kirkland!" Jacob said. "You are on the witness stand, under oath! Do you understand?" Arthur nodded, guessing this man's identity.

"Completely, Mr Blake!" Jacob was surprised.

"You know me, sir?"

"You could only be one person!" And Arthur gave Jacob a friendly smile so as to not antagonise him. Jacob grunted.

"Your smile is attractive, sir," he commented and then he frowned. "Did you use it to beguile this young _American_ girl?" Arthur took exception to Jacob's wording, making it sound like Arthur had tricked Amelia for her affection.

"I love her, sir!" he replied, adamantly. Jacob was unconvinced.

"Just answer the question!" he barked.

"Could you repeat the question?" Arthur asked, tweaking the tiger's tail a little. "It had 'beguile' in it!"

"The exact question doesn't matter," Jacob was losing his patience. "Did you consciously influence the emotions of this young lady."

"No, sir!" Arthur denied.

"You claim you love her!"

"I do love her!"

"Can you prove it?"

"Just give me time!" Arthur insisted. "Forty or fifty years should do it!" Matthew had to suppress a laugh. Jacob was not so amused.

" _Can you prove it?"_ he stressed. Arthur shrugged.

"I can only prove I'm hungry by eating," he replied. Jacob gave another grunt.

"Would you die for her?"

"I would!" Matthew got nervous at Arthur's answer and Arthur saw that.

"But I'd rather live for her," he added.

"You young devil!" Jacob blurted at Arthur's cheek and everyone turned to stare at him so he apologised to the Judge and Jury.

"Your witness!" he said to Matthew.

"No questions. Your Honour!"

"Collector 14!" Jacob called. Francis huffed. His name was _Francis!_

"Oui!"

"Is the young lady available?"

"I put her to sleep," Francis replied. "So you can call her!" Jacob nodded.

"I call Amelia F Jones!" From the operating theatre door, Amelia walked up to Arthur and took his hand before facing the Court. The Judge looked kindly on her as she stared at the Court that held the life of the man she loved in their hands. And then she saw her brother standing with them, looking the same as he did when he was alive and tears filled her eyes.

"Matthew!" she gasped.

"Hello, Amelia," Matthew smiled. He was going to miss her but he would look in on her from time to time. "I'm sorry I had to leave you, sis but I'll still be there for you. Right now, you need to pay attention to what these people say and ask!" The Judge smiled gently at Amelia.

"You are before the High Court in the case of Squadron Leader Arthur Kirkland," he said. "You've been called as a witness by the Prosecution so you must tell the truth!" He indicated Jacob Blake. "This gentleman is Consul for the Prosecution." Amelia turned to Jacob, knowing that this man could condemned Arthur and she squeezed Arthur's hand and he squeezed back.

"Child," Jacob asked his fellow country-woman, gently. "Where were you born?"

"Boston, sir" she replied, respectfully. Jacob glanced toward Arthur.

"Do you really know this man?" he asked.

"I think so!"

"You think so?" Jacob responded.

"I've only known him a week or so," she admitted. She could not know everything about Arthur in such a short time and Jacob knew that too.

"You barely know him at all!" he declared. "How can you think you love him?"

"I do love him!" Amelia insisted. That she was sure of but Jacob merely smiled.

"Nonsense, child!" Matthew was not happy with Jacob trying to tell his sister what her feelings were. Only Amelia could possibly know what they are!

"Objection!" he called out. "The Prosecution will withdrawn the last comment!"

"It's all right, Mattie!" Amelia said. "He has a point! There's no sense in love!" Jacob smiled at the wise observation.

"Can you prove your love for him?" Amelia frowned. There was no way she could! How do you prove such a thing?

"How can I?" she asked. "Love's not a thing you can touch, it's something you feel! It's not tangible so how can you make another person see or feel what you do?" Jacob nodded at her statement.

"There is still wisdom in Boston!" he commented then added seriously. "Would you die for him?" Arthur did not like the way this was going!

"Yes!" Amelia replied without hesitation.

"Would you take his place in the balance sheet?" Jacob demanded.

"Yes!"

"No!" Arthur shouted. "No! Don't believe her!" Arthur could not let Amelia do this! It was not her time and he would not let her sacrifice herself for him! Under no circumstances!

Jacob had to admit he was impressed with Arthur jumping in to prevent Amelia sacrificing herself and decided to test him to see just what he would give up for Amelia. Maybe he was wrong about the British airman.

"Would you?" he asked Amelia again. Arthur lost his temper.

"You have no right to ask that!" he blustered.

"How dare you address me like that?" Jacob said, indignantly. Even Matthew cautioned Arthur to calm down.

"Of all the unhanded tricks!" Arthur fumed. Jacob's face went a shade of red.

"This is contempt of Court!" he threatened. "I'll have you committed!" Arthur held his head up high and pushed Amelia behind him.

"Do what you like!" he challenged and turned to Amelia. "Answer no more questions!"

"You are forfeiting any chance of winning your case with your behaviour," Jacob shouted at Arthur.

"FINE!" Arthur shouted back. He would give up his life before he would allow them to swap Amelia's life for his. "But you're not getting Amelia as well!" Jacob turned to the rest of the Court.

"Your Honour, members of the jury!" he said and sighed. "He really does love her!" It had taken a lot for Jacob to admit that. That this Englishman could love an American girl so much, he would give up his life for her, perhaps he had let his hatred of the British of his lifetime cloud his opinion of the British in this day and age but it was proven to him that Arthur Kirkland loved Amelia Jones.

"Your witness!" he said to Matthew. Matthew knew that Jacob had conceded but he also saw the members of the Records Department congregating together, discussing how to win this case. After all, Arthur had proven his love but Amelia was yet to prove hers and he could not let them use that so he had to prove that his sister loved Arthur just as much as he loved her. He had heard Jacob say that, in the Universe, in Heaven, nothing was stronger than the law.

But they were not in Heaven!

"Amelia," he said, softly to his sister. "You trust me, don't you?" Amelia wondered why her brother was asking her that.

"Of course I do!" she replied. Arthur could not believe what Matthew said next.

"Amelia," he said. "It's imperative that you take Arthur's place in the other world!"

"HAVE YOU GONE MAD!" Arthur bellowed. Even Jacob stared at Matthew in shock! Amelia was the Canadian doctor's half sister, why was he doing this to her? Matthew ignored them all.

"Amelia," he told her. "If you love Arthur, you must step on to this stairway and come with us!"

"YOU ARE MAD!" Arthur screamed and Jacob was inclined to agree with him. If Matthew made his sister do this, it would happen. Amelia's life on Earth would end and Jacob was no more eager to see the young American girl in Heaven prematurely than Arthur.

"It's the only way to prove you love him!" Matthew warned, trying to get Amelia to understand that he had a reason for doing this. He did not know if she knew but …

"Yes!" she said. "I do love him!" And she moved to go to the stairway but Arthur grabbed her and pushed her back.

"You're not going!" he declared and turned back toward Matthew to give him a piece of his mind. Matthew turned to the Judge.

"I request that Arthur Kirkland be restrained, Your Honour!" he said. The Judge held up his hand.

"Granted!" Arthur found he could not move, frozen on the spot. He fought against it but he could not move a muscle. He was powerless to stop anything from happening!

"Amelia!" Matthew held out his hand to his sister and Amelia slowly made her way over to him. Jacob could not believe Matthew was doing this to Amelia.

"I advise you to stop this, Doctor Williams," Jacob warned as Amelia came to the stairway. "Once this is done, there's no going back. In the whole Universe, nothing is stronger than the law!" Matthew just continued to hold out his hand. Amelia took it and he pulled her on to the stairway. She turned to take one last look at Arthur as the stairway began to rise.

"Goodbye, Sweetheart!"

Arthur fought to stop her but he could not break whatever the Judge had done to him and all he could do was watch in anguish as Amelia moved further and further away from him. It might mean that he would live but he only wanted to live because of Amelia. Without her, life was pointless! As the stairway went higher, taking her away from Arthur, tears fell from her eyes, knowing she would never see him again. Or at least until he died. Jacob sent Matthew looks of disgust while wanting to comfort Amelia. Anyone could tell that she loved Arthur!

Suddenly, the stairway came to a halt and refused to move another inch.

"Yes, Mr Blake!" Matthew said, triumphantly. "In the Universe, nothing is stronger than the law! But, on Earth, nothing is stronger than love!" Amelia realised what Matthew had been doing. Love had refused to allow Arthur and Amelia to be parted and had over-written the law of the Universe. With tears of happiness this time, she ran down the stairs and into Arthur's arms as he was unfrozen. He held her tight, refusing to let her go and Amelia did not want him to.

"Members of the jury," the Judge announced. "Will you please consider your verdict?" The jury huddled together to discuss it. It did not take long!

"Case for the claimant, Your Honour!" Ivan announced. Kyle slapped both Matthew and Francis on the back, much to the discomfort of the latter as it almost pitched him headlong down the stairway.

"Then the only thing left to do is to amend the date in Arthur Kirkland's file," The Judge commented as Gaia handed him a scroll and quill. He looked at both Matthew and Jacob. "Will both Consuls approve the new date?" He scribbled something on the scroll and showed it to Matthew who's eyes glowed with approval.

"Very generous, Your Honour!" he commented and the Judge showed the scroll to Jacob.

"Is that not a little …..?" he began to object but decided it was not worth it. "I agree!" The Judge handed the scroll back to Gaia, who was not happy that the Department had lost the case.

"I hope this does not set a precedent," she commented.

"OBJECTION!" both Consuls said at the same time. Matthew indicated to Jacob to continue but Jacob insisted that Matthew go first.

"The rights of the Common Man …..." Matthew was interrupted by Jacob.

"The Uncommon Man..."

"The Uncommon Man must always be upheld!" And both Consuls smiled at each other in agreement.

* * *

The operation came to an end and had gone as well as it possibly could. The nurses prepared to wheel Arthur into recovery as everyone else went to the wash-room to clean up after the operation. Doctor Smith untied his face mask and removed his surgical cap. Short, blonde slicked-back hair appeared from under it and he rubbed his pale blue eyes. He looked like a younger version of the Judge, possibly a descendant as he went to get cleaned up, secure in the knowledge that Doctor Smith, AKA Doctor Ludwig Beilschmidt had saved another life.

His anaesthetist followed him into the wash room, removing his own cap and revealing his auburn hair, a curl springing out to the left. A happy smile appeared from behind his surgical mask which he removed as he came up beside Ludwig. Feliciano Vargas was also watched carefully and he was a big part of why Ludwig left Germany to begin with. He and the happy Italian were lovers and such a relationship between men was more than frown on in his home country at the moment. Not that it was accepted here but what people here did not know would not hurt them!

* * *

Francis ran down the stairway as quickly as he could with a book in his hand.

"Arthur!" he called out. "Don't forget your book!" He threw it and the book fell to Earth with its pages fluttering.

* * *

Once she knew Arthur was out of danger, Amelia, seemingly with no memory of being before a Heavenly court, went home to bathe, change her uniform and she brought back bed clothes for Arthur. She guessed he would want to be out of hospital gowns as soon as possible as she unzipped the bag in the room they had put him in. She pulled out a house coat out of the bag but it felt a little heavy. When she checked the pockets. She found a book stuffed into one and she pulled it out and found it was a book about chess. Arthur lay in the bed, still asleep but then he began to stir.

"Matthew," he whispered. "Matthew!" Tears sprang into Amelia's eyes to hear her dead brother's name on Arthur's lips but she was also happy that Arthur was coming round and she went to his side. Arthur opened his emerald eyes and the first thing he saw was Amelia looking down at him with a smile but tears in her eyes but she looked wonderful to him.

"Hello," he smiled. Amelia's smile grew wider.

"Hi!"

"We won!" he said and Amelia stroked his face.

"I know, Sweetheart!" she replied and she leant down and kissed him. Arthur kissed her back!

* * *

Everyone from the base and the village attended Matthew's funeral, everyone except Arthur who was not considered to be well enough to be released from the hospital and he bemoaned the fact that he could not be with Amelia as they buried her brother but he took comfort in the fact that Lukas and Matthias were with her and would look after her but he had wanted to be there himself. Not only for Amelia's sake but to say good-bye to the man who had saved his life.

Allistor, Rhys, Patrick and Seamus arrived after receiving the telegram about Arthur and driving, non-stop, to see him. He was happy to see them but they were soon driving each other nuts with their bickering until Amelia returned from the church which had been packed to the rafters and the Kirkland Brothers behaved themselves from then on. When Arthur recovered enough to be released, the first place he and Amelia went was to the graveyard beside the church and made their way to the newest stone.

_Matthew Williams_

_Beloved Brother and Friend_

Amelia held on to Arthur's arm as he put his other hand on the stone, respectfully.

"Sorry I couldn't come to your funeral, Matthew," he said. "Bloody doctors wouldn't let me out! I really wanted to be there!" Amelia rested her head against Arthur's shoulder.

"I'm sure he knows, Sweetheart," she said and Arthur put his arm around her shoulders.

"I promise, Matthew," Arthur vowed. "I'll take care of Amelia for you, you won't have to worry about her any more. I promise, I'll do everything I can to make her happy!" Arthur looked down into Amelia's face and smiled. She smiled back and kissed him, Arthur returning the kiss. In the church, the bells rang with no one ringing them!

* * *

Arthur married Amelia and they had a long and happy marriage, with three sons, Matthew, after Amelia's brother, Alfred named after Arthur's father and Peter, after Amelia's father. They had seven grand-children and Arthur lived to the ripe old age of ninety-four. He died comfortably in his sleep, peacefully with Amelia by his side as she past away with him. It was almost as if, after everything, the Judge gave Arthur the same date as Amelia so they would not be separated, even by death. Francis came to collect both of them and they went with him willingly. After all, they had been given plenty of life together.

Heaven had waited long enough!

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's all she wrote.....I'm preparing another story but it needs a little rewriting but I promised to have it up soon. It's called Demonic Romeo. Watch out for it!

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you like.


End file.
